


And the Sun Will Rise

by Arithra



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Bad Decisions, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, M/M, Miklan (Fire Emblem) Being an Asshole, Other, Rescues, awkward pining, how to brother - not like this, no beta we die like Glenn, this time for real
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:13:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25465312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arithra/pseuds/Arithra
Summary: His soulmate. Glenn looked at Sylvain with wide eyes. The boy did not seem to have noticed that something really, really amazing had just happened. Instead, the pudgy fingers were still patting his cheek. Glenn grinned and Sylvain squealed.--Or: Glenn Fraldarius' lifelong struggle to figure out how to tell Sylvain the things he needs to hear and never quite managing. (Or does he?)
Relationships: Glenn Fraldarius & Sylvain Jose Gautier, Glenn Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 10
Kudos: 41





	And the Sun Will Rise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ardentiia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ardentiia/gifts).



> Happy birthday Maddy! I hope you enjoy this, even if it isn't quite the one you asked for (the part you asked for comes at the end...)
> 
> This fic is a companion to my upcoming Dimilix BB fic, but you don't need to worry about spoilers, the main fic takes place after this. ;-)

For as long as Glenn could remember, and even before that if his mother was to be believed, he had a sun over his heart. It was no bigger than his fist and it grew with him as he grew.

One of his earliest memories was staring at the sun on his chest in the mirror inside his parents’ bedroom and wondering why it was so dark and colorless. Like a black spot, shaped like a sun, but nothing like it.

Glenn had traced the shape with his fingers - haltingly because doing to mirrored was difficult. It had been warm. Warmer than the rest of Glenn, and it had confused him.

His mother had found him like that, standing in front of the mirror and frowning in confusion. She looked puzzled by his position, but her eyes widened in understanding when she spotted him tracing the mark.

“That’s your soulmate mark, Glenn.”

Glenn’s hand dropped down, and he turned to look at her in surprise. “Like in the stories?”

A chuckle and a nod were his answer, and then, she told him about soulmates. About how the goddess had given humans the signs to find each other, and how those soulmates would leave an imprint on your life in one fashion or another - at least if you met them.

Glenn wanted to meet his soulmate right there and then! His mother had said that if his mark was anything like hers it would stop being black! So if he met his soulmate Glenn would no longer have to run around with a black sun! Maybe it would turn yellow! Or teal! Or- or- well, not pink.

Unfortunately, his mother informed him that the meeting was not something he could force. It would happen, or it wouldn’t, and the only thing he could do was live his best life.

\--

He was almost five when his parents told him he would be an older brother. They had dinner together - like they did every evening when his father was in Fraldarius - and Glenn was wondering why his parents were exchanging almost secretive glances and smiles.

It was like they were keeping a secret from him. If he wasn’t already a big boy Glenn would have pouted and refused to eat his vegetables - something his father insisted big boys did - and only eaten the dessert.

“Glenn,” his mother said eventually when he was finishing the last bite of his pudding and turned to look at her’s - not even half-finished! - instead. At the call of his name, Glenn looked up at her instead, hoping she would offer him her dessert, she was a bit strange and didn’t like sweet things too much, so it wasn’t uncommon.

The look on her face stopped him from voicing the question, however. She looked serious.

“Your father and I,” And here she reached over to grasp his father’s hand, “Have something important to tell you.”

His father nodded and smiled. It was his nice smile, not the one which he sometimes gave nobles that annoyed him, or Glenn when he was in trouble.

“You are going to be a big brother.” his mother continued, her eyes carefully resting on his face. Glenn furrowed his brow in thought, and his mother continued talking, “You are going to get a younger brother or sister.”

Actually, that sounded like a great idea! That meant no one could refer to Glenn as the baby if there was an actual baby around, but more importantly-

“Do I get to choose?” he asked.

His father’s brow was furrowed, though he otherwise looked relaxed. “Choose what, son?”

“If it’s a sister or a brother?”

His parents laughed, his father bright and loudly, and his mother hidden behind her hand.

“No, I’m afraid not.” his mother eventually informed him, humor glinting in her eyes and her cheeks a bit flushed from laughter, “That’s up to the goddess.”

“Oh,” Glenn mumbled.

That was a bit of a bummer. He didn’t know if he wanted to have a little brother or a sister yet, but he really would like to be able to choose. Maybe he could pray to the goddess once he made up his mind on what he wanted. His tutor had told him that he was good at making arguments already, so maybe he could convince the goddess to his side!

“Mhm.” Glenn considered it. “When are we going to pick it up? Is it in Fhidiad or in the church?”

That made his parents laugh again, Glenn puffed out his cheeks and snatched his mother’s pudding, causing them to laugh even harder.

“We are not going to pick it up, Glenn,” father informed him, “It is going to grow in your mother’s stomach until it’s big enough.”

That, more so than the announcement of any sibling could ever be, was the really shocking part.

Glenn wasn’t sure how a baby - and he had seen one before! - would fit into his mother’s stomach. Even the explanation that it was still very small, didn’t make much sense. His mother might have told him that the baby would still grow, but that did not solve the whole space problem! Would his mother still be able to eat when the baby got bigger?

(Would he get all the desserts?)

\--

The announcement that he would be a brother before the year was over did not stop his father from taking him along to Firdiad at the beginning of the new month. Apparently, there would be a small celebration because the Queen was going to have a baby too.

Glenn was pretty okay with that because for once his father had allowed him to ride on the horse in front of him. They did not take a carriage, especially since his mother stayed at home to look after the territory and grow the baby.

The journey wasn’t as fun as he had expected, however. Everyone was tense and, from what Glenn had overheard, it was because people were getting really sick. Even in the capital. Glenn felt his father’s gaze rest on him numerous times during their journey, but he did not get sent home.

\--

It was during this trip that Glenn - soon to be a big brother! - met his soulmate.

His father was not the only noble in attendance at court. The one that stuck out the most to Glenn was Margrave Marius Gautier. Mainly because his hair was very, very noticeable. The Margrave was a tall man - though not as tall as the king - with bright red hair and a thick bushy beard, Glenn had no idea if the man had lips, and when he had asked his father and the King, both of them had laughed loudly, but had not given him an answer.

Glenn thought it was probably because the Margrave did not have lips and it was a secret. Glenn could keep secrets, so he did not bring it up with anyone else.

On this visit, he had also brought along his two sons. Glenn already knew Miklan a bit. He was a fairly okay guy, though Glenn had had to pretend not to see him cry once when they had overheard their fathers talking about crests - and Miklan’s lack of one.

The other Gautier son was a lot smaller - not really baby small, but almost - and Miklan was cradling him carefully against his chest. The adults did not let them stick around and instead send them off. When Miklan and Glenn left the hall, they walked slower than usual, mostly because Miklan was moving really slowly and trying to make sure to have a good grip on the squirming bundle of drool.

If Glenn’s little sibling would do that too, he wasn’t so sure he still wanted one.

Like usual, the two of them went to one of the gardens in the royal palace that was open to visitors. Glenn had accompanied his father to the private garden of the royal family once, and it had been really pretty, but it wasn’t a place where he was allowed to go on his own.

The garden they had chosen was thankfully empty, and they could sit down on the grass without anyone making disapproving noises or something of the sort. Glenn flopped down onto the grass with a deep theatrical sight and then watched in amusement as Miklan awkwardly sat down as well. The baby in the older boy’s arms didn’t seem to be interested in holding still and kept squirming, which made Miklan abort several attempts at sitting down to get a better grip on his brother instead.

With each failure, he got more and more frustrated and his face kept trying to match his hair. Glenn grinned to himself and suppressed his snickers.

The spectacle was really amusing.

Eventually, Miklan managed to sit down. And as soon as his butt landed on the ground he plopped the baby between his legs. The smaller Gautier squealed in excitement and grabbed some of the grass. Ripping it out and waving it in the air.

It was just a bit cute - if not for the drool.

Glenn turned to look at Miklan.

“So... you have a little brother. That sounds pretty cool, is it very different?”

Something dark flashed across Miklan’s face, and then he looked ashamed. Glenn opened his mouth to ask but got cut off by the toddler being pressed into his arms.

“There.” Miklan said grumpily, staring across the garden, “You can hold him.”

Glenn scrambled to get a good grip on the squirming toddler. The boy giggled and wriggled like a caterpillar, making Glenn really happy that they were sitting on the ground.

“Miklan!” Glenn complained when he finally had a somewhat safe grip.

“‘Ikkan!” the toddler echoed him cheerfully.

Miklan huffed out a half-hearted laugh. “Sylvain,” he answered anyway, sounding a bit bored, but the toddler wriggled even more happily, bouncing on Glenn’s lap, and squealing in glee.

“‘Ikkan! Ikkan!” he repeated, looking delighted, with drool dribbling down his face. He was almost cute. The most telling factor against his cuteness, Glenn decided, was that he looked like Miklan.

“So your name is Sylvain, huh?” Glenn mused.

He was surprised when the toddler turned at the sound of his name, and d Glenn was met with curious brown eyes that stared at him in surprise. The toddler babbled at him, but if it was words Glenn could not make them out.

Instead, he smiled in answer. “Hey.” He said, “I’m Glenn.”

Another babble. Drool dribbled from the baby's mouth and landed on his clothes, right in the middle of a depiction of the crest of Gautier.

Sylvain reached for him and put his sticky fingers to his face, Glenn was just about to pull back, when it suddenly felt like all the colors around him were more intense and as if he was the center of the universe. Glenn forgot to breathe.

A hard yank on his hair cut him out of his daze. And Glenn blinked several times to regain his focus. Sylvain was in front of him, cheerfully yanking on his hair and squealing.

Glenn could not look away. Something warm was pulsing on his chest with a heartbeat that was not his own. Spreading warmth through him as if the sun was shining on him.

The realization hit Glenn like a warhammer. A sun.

Over his heart, his soulmate mark tingled.

His soulmate. Glenn looked at Sylvain with wide eyes. The boy did not seem to have noticed that something really, really amazing had just happened. Instead, the pudgy fingers were still patting his cheek. Glenn grinned and Sylvain squealed.

“You are a true sunshine, aren’t you?” Glenn mumbled to himself, enchanted by the wide sparkling eyes and the beaming smile and the delight on Sylvain’s face. “The sun fits you well…”

“Not really,” Miklan grumbled, “More like a fire alarm.”

And with that, he snatched the baby from Glenn’s arms. For a moment Sylvain looked distressed and reached back for Glenn with big pleading eyes. The toddler made a sound almost like a whine, but Miklan shushed him and ruffled his hair.

Just like that Glenn was forgotten, and instead, Sylvain cheerfully babbled up at Miklan and started sucking on his shirt. Miklan grimaced but did not stop him. Glenn did not look forward to his little sibling doing the same to him, but he would have to allow it. He would have allowed it for Sylvain as well, but the toddler hadn’t seemed interested in Glenn’s shirt. Maybe it was because Miklan was his brother, when Glenn got his sibling, he would make sure that they forgot about everyone else too! Even their soulmate!

There was no way he would let Miklan be the better older brother!

\--

That evening, when he was supposed to be in bed, Glenn secretly relit the candle and walked over to the big mirror before taking off his sleepshirt. The sight that greeted him made him gasp in amazement.

His soulmate mark was no longer black. Instead, it was a warm orange that actually shone enough or him to make it out clearly even in the mostly dark room. It was very pretty.

It was as if Glenn had a sun all for his own.

And he never wanted to see its light go out.

(He wouldn’t.)

\--

Glenn was doodling on one of the papers he was not supposed to doodle on, when there was a cough, hacking and vicious and sounding like it hurt. All of them turned into the direction where the sound had come from; the other end of the king’s office where the informal seating area was.

One of the king's advisors was sitting on one of the couches, curled in on herself and a tissue clutched in front of her face. She coughed and coughed and coughed again.

There was silence in the office, and no one moved. Hesitantly, Glenn got to his feet and started to move towards the woman to give her a clap on the back, when his father’s hand landed on his shoulder with an iron grip.

“Father?” Confused, he looked up, but Rodrigue wasn’t looking at him. Instead, he was looking at the Lady, pale-faced, his lips a thin line, and his brow furrowed.

Glenn was sent home the next day.

He wasn’t allowed to say goodbye to the queen and the king only ruffled his hair absentmindedly. Most of the other nobles were leaving as well, Glenn caught sight of Miklan walking beside his mother to one of the carriages, but he did not see his sunshine.

“Take care of your mother and little sibling,” his father instructed, kneeling in the dirt in front of Glenn so that they could be on eye-level. “And of yourself too.”

It sounded much more final than their usual farewells.

Everyone was leaving (fleeing) the city, but his father remained.

\--

Leaving Firdiad did not keep Glenn away from the plague, because it spread everywhere. Even in Fraldarius people were already ill. They were trying to keep them as isolated as possible, and for a while, it seemed like they had succeeded.

That assumption did not last long.

The next wave of illnesses came much quicker and Glenn was no longer allowed to play outside or go down into the village. He mostly accompanied his mother on her day to day tasks - there were no lessons, his tutor was ill - and got a first-row seat on her growing belly.

It was strange to see it growing bigger and bigger. His mother wasn’t a big woman, and the bigger her belly looked, the stranger she looked. She even lost some of her grace when walking.

“I don’t ever want to be pregnant.” Glenn found himself bursting out one afternoon, after watching his mother awkwardly fetch something from one of her cupboards.

He knew that he would have to have babies someday, someone had to carry on the family name. But it wouldn’t be Glenn, if he had to have babies, his spouse would have to do it.

He was sorry, but not sorry enough.

Glenn did not expect his mother to break out in roaring laughter at his words. She wasn’t able to contain her for a long time, and every time she looked at him - or her belly - she started laughing again. His mother only stopped laughing, when Glenn stomped his foot in frustration.

“I’m sorry, Glenn, “ she assured him when she saw his distress, but there was still humor in her eyes and laughter in her voice, “But you are a boy, are you not?”

Glenn nodded, arms crossed obstinately in front of his chest

“Boys and men can’t get pregnant,” She informed him kindly, “Only women can.”

Glenn blinked, then sagged in relief. “Good.”

His mother’s eyes twinkled with humor still, “How about you focus on being a big brother first? Before you think of being a father?”

Glenn nodded.

“Yes! I will be a great big brother!”

Better than Miklan! And his sibling would adore him even more than Sylvain did his brother.

\--

A week after that Glenn was sitting across from his mother and touching her pregnant belly, hoping to feel one of the kicks she had told him about, when his mother started coughing.

\--

It wasn’t a cold.

\--

Due to the plague, news traveled much slower, but the news of a healthy prince was a balm on the open wounds that many people suffered.

Then came the news of the queen’s death.

Glenn did not know when his father got informed that his wife was ill as well, even though his uncle had sent a rider for Fhirdiad. By the time the duke returned to Fraldarius, he had a second son, at least for the moment.

Glenn’s mother was ill, and his baby brother was as well. Glenn had not been allowed to see either of them, and even though he was already five years old, he threw himself into his father’s arms as soon as he saw him.

Nothing was more comforting and relieving than feeling the warm familiar arms close around him and hold him to the broad chest. Glenn cried.

“It will be alright,” Rodrigue told him and rubbed his back.

For the first time in his life, Glenn could not quite believe him. So many people had already died. The queen, the cook, his nursemaid, and so many others.

But as it turned out, his father would be right.

His brother lived. He recovered quickly and proved to have a formidable pair of lungs. His mother lived, though hers was a slow and arduous recovery that never quite reached its end. The mother who cradled him in her arms when he was finally allowed to see her again was like a washed-out version of the woman Glenn remembered.

But it was his mother.

And everything would be alright.

\--

Slowly but surely the kingdom recovered as well. Glenn learned that it was due to a big part through the efforts of the mage and scholar Cornelia Armin. And soon, Rodrigue took them to the capital again.

Glenn was somewhat horrified to learn that his little brother would come with them as well. Felix wasn’t even a year old, but he was the cutest and most annoying baby ever.

Fhirdiad had changed. Many of the familiar storefronts were gone or replaced, and the city seemed to be under reconstruction as well. The castle, however, was the same.

The king was not. He looked tired and less cheerful, and instead of throwing Glenn up into the air he simply ruffled his hair.

Glenn decided that it was probably because of the baby prince. Prince Dimitri - the king Glenn would one day serve! - was a bit bigger than Felix and his cheeks weren’t as chubby as Glenn’s brothers. But he was still cute. When he was asleep.

His father put Felix into the crip with the prince and Glenn had to listen to the adults cooing over them, while the baby slobber all over each other, and the prince grabbed Felix’s jacket.

The only good thing about the two babies being together was that they cried less, but when they cried… nothing could stop them.

\--

All the other nobles arrived in the capital shortly after them and Glenn learned that it would be the formal presentation of the young prince.

Margrave Gautier brought Sylvain along as well, and Glenn spent the afternoon playing hide and seek with the toddler, while Miklan pretended to be too old for it.

\--

Glenn was also told he would marry a baby someday. And unlike Sylvain - his sunshine soulmate - she was still small and wrinkly, though bigger than Felix. The only thing of note about her so far was that she could scream louder than both the prince and his brother, and that was something Glenn hadn’t really thought possible until then.

\--

Over the years, and the countless trips to Fhirdiad that followed, Glenn figured out some things: His soulmate mark was brighter - more like the real color of the sun - the closer he was to Sylvain, and it pulsed in time with the younger boy's heartbeat.

Sometimes this was a good thing because it allowed Glenn to seek Sylvain out when he was upset about something and cheer him up. However, the older they all got, the more hesitant and less likely Sylvain was to smile. He no longer greeted Glenn with delighted hugs and cheerful chatter, but instead with a politeness that Glenn had to struggle to reach during formal occasions.

The Margrave approved, but Miklan…

That was another thing Glenn learned, there was something wrong with Miklan. And no one would tell Glenn what, sometimes Glenn even suspected that the adults hadn’t even noticed.

When Glenn had asked Miklan himself about it, he had only gotten snarled at and told to mind his own business. When he had asked Sylvain….

Glenn had never seen a smile so fake before.

The little kids - meaning His Highness, Prince Dimitri, Felix, his fiancee Ingrid and Sylvain - however, were quite close, and Sylvain was always happy when he was playing with them. He was less hesitant around them then he was around Glenn.

And maybe, Glenn was just a bit jealous sometimes. Most of the time, however, that wasn’t the case, mainly because the other three were always eager to include Glenn in their games. Even though they were babies it was a lot of fun.

Eventually, he noticed that Sylvain was watching his interactions with Felix very, very carefully, almost suspiciously. Almost like… like he was worried that Glenn was going to hurt Felix. The thought alone was sickening, and Glenn pushed it aside until he no longer could.

It all came to a head when the little ducklings played a prank on him one day. Glenn had known it was coming, their giggling was everything but subtle, but he was still surprised when instead of leaves or feathers, he got cold water dumped on his head.

Glenn cursed loudly and jumped to his feet, dropping the book he had been studying to the ground, and whirling around to face the children.

It was cold, and he could already feel himself shivering from the wind.

“You little shits!” he roared, and the children scattered. Glenn noticed Prince Dimitri throw away the bucket - it made sense, he would be the only one strong enough to carry a full water bucket - and run to the side, Ingrid giggling and following behind him. Sylvain was giving him a wary look. On his chest, the sun pulsed rapidly. 

Felix, the littlest of little shits, was smirking smugly at him, eyes sparkling with humor and cheeks red from laughter. He did not even try to run.

Growling, Glenn lunged for him, “You’re dead, Fe!”

Felix squealed and turned to run, but he had waited too long, and Glenn was already upon him. Or would have been, if another small body had not put himself between them.

Glenn barely managed to stop himself from running into him.

“Don’t hurt him,“ Sylvain cried, almost pleadingly, “It’s my fault!”

At that moment Glenn was too angry to care, he grabbed Sylvain by the shoulders - the rabbit-like heartbeat got even quicker - and set him aside with a ruffled through the hair, “Nice try,“ He threw at him, and then lunged for Felix again.

The stupid thing had not tried to run when Sylvain had stepped in, so he was easy prey. Glenn grabbed him and held him tightly against his body with one arm so that he could use the other to mercilessly tickle the little brat.

Felix squealed and tried to squirm away.

“Stop, Glenn! That’s gross! You're wet!”

Glenn growled again, “And whose fault is that?!”

He tickled Felix a bit harder, long enough for the laughter to gain a tinge of desperation, but not long enough to make the brat pee himself. No need for tears and Glenn did not want to clean that up.

Then he set the huffing Felix on the ground again and turned to look around. He could make out the prince and Ingrid hiding between the hedges, but they ducked out of sight as soon as they spotted him looking in their direction. Dimitri’s blue cloak was still visible, however.

Glenn huffed in amusement. Those stupid kids, they were lucky they were cute.

But then Glenn’s gaze landed on Sylvain, and his reluctant amusement vanished. Sylvain was deathly pale and staring and Glenn with wide and scared eyes, looking like he had just realized something horrible. His hair was still in the mess Glenn had left it in when he had ruffled his hair.

Instinctively, Glenn took a step towards him, but Sylvain stumbled back one step, then another, then he turned to run.

Glenn hesitated, wanting to follow, and glanced down at Felix. His little brother’s cheeks were still flushed from his screaming laughter, but he was looking worried as well.

“What’s wrong with Sylvain?” Felix mumbled. Glenn pursed his lips and ruffled his hair, his gaze returned to Sylvain’s rapidly retreating form, before letting out a sigh.

“Nevermind,” he told the little gremlin, “I’ll go after him, you go back into the castle and get changed. You’re wet and we don’t want you to get sick.”

Felix gave him a nasty look and tried to step on his feet, but Glenn was quicker and dodged. He ruffled Felix’s hair again, harder this time.

Felix huffed, “And whose fault is that?”

Glenn gave him a look, “Yours.”

Felix pouted, but after a gentle shove, he obediently started towards the castle.

Glenn watched long enough to make sure that his brother really entered, before turning and making his way after Sylvain. He didn’t quite know where the other boy could have gone, but he had a hunch. Since Sylvain was unlikely to return to the castle, or any other area where he would run into people, he likely made his way deeper into the gardens. It wasn’t much help, but at least it gave him a direction.

Making his way through the castle gardens - and carefully keeping an eye out for red hair or Sylvain’s brownish tunic - Glenn thought about what could have scared Sylvain. Because Glenn did not doubt that the other had been scared. Scared and then hurt.

Scared of Glenn. On his chest, the sun pulsed rapidly, and Glenn stopped his aimless wandering. Instead, he used his left hand to pull his tunic away from his chest and looked at the sun. It was glowing. Glenn concentrated, turning left, then right, and paying very close attention to the heartbeat on his chest and the way the light changed minutely.

It led him to the apple trees. Given the season - it was not quite summer, and the petals were gone, yet no apples were there - it was deserted.

Glenn spotted Sylvain quickly, the red hair gave him away.

Fighting down the urge to simply march over, Glenn stopped some feet away and took in the sight. Sylvain hadn’t noticed him yet, he was sitting with his back against a tree trunk, arms wrapped around his knees, and face buried in his arms.

“Sylvain!” Glenn called, and his stomach lurched uncomfortably when he saw the way the younger boy started. Sylvain jumped to his feet, his posture defensive, though - and this was a relief - he relaxed slightly when he spotted Glenn.

Slightly, not completely. It tasted sour.

Glenn smiled at him, but the expression he got in return was nothing of the like, even if it was probably intended that way.

“Are you alright?” Glenn asked. Sylvain studied him for a long moment, then gave him a mocking smile. This expression was genuine, at least for what it was.

“Why do you ask?” Sylvain shrugged, the movement would have been casual if he hadn’t still been tense. “Is there a reason I shouldn’t be?”

Glenn considered, crossed his arms, and gave him a keen look. He knew what he wanted to ask, but the question… it made him sick.

“Not to my knowledge,” he answered instead, paused, and pushed on, “But given that you took part in the prank as well, you might need to be punished too.” He had made sure to keep his voice casual, almost teasing, but Sylvain flinched all the same. He hadn’t imagined it. Glenn felt a stone settle at the bottom of his stomach.

Bracing himself, Glenn closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them again.

“You thought I would hurt Fe.”

Sylvain startled at the sudden change of topic, and Glenn saw the way he clenched his hands at his side. As soon as he noticed Glenn’s attention on them, however, he relaxed them and chuckled instead.

“Don’t be ridiculous Glenn,” His voice sounded calm, almost humorous, “Why would I think you would hurt Felix?”

If he continued like this, Sylvain would become a flawless liar one day. One day but not yet.

“I don’t know,” Glenn answered him, fixing Sylvain with a searching look that he knew made him look a bit like his father. “But you did.”

Sylvain said nothing and so Glenn continued.

“When… I was angry and went for Felix, you got between us. You tried to protect him. From me.”

Sylvain still remaining silent, the look on his face unreadable as he watched Glenn.

Glenn huffed a laugh, “Look, I might have been angry - this is hardly the right kind of weather for a water fight,” he tugged at his still wet shirt, “But the worst I would have done was dunk him in a pond.”

Again, Sylvain flinched, the pulsing on Glenn’s chest which had slowed down, picked back up again.

Glenn hesitated. “What made you think you needed to protect him?”

The silence between them stretched out for a long moment, and with each moment that passed, with each pulsing beat of his sun, Glenn got surer that he would not get an answer.

So, he sighted. “Look, Felix might be annoying, but he is my little brother, and I love him.”

Even if Glenn was unlikely to tell Felix that to his face, the brat would either tease him for being a sap or start crying.

“Miklan hates me,” Sylvain informed him, out of the blue. The look in his eyes was distant, and he said it like he was stating a fact that Glenn should already be aware of.

Glenn was genuinely stumped.

“What?” He asked, staring at Sylvain in befuddlement. “But Miklan-” Glenn remembered Miklan’s gentle care for Sylvain. He still had the letters in which his friend bragged about his brother. Until-

Until he stopped mentioning him at all.

“Didn’t he… adore you?”

To Glenn’s chagrin, Sylvain flinched at his question. Glenn could see the way he braced himself, pushed back his shoulders and straightened. Put on a front of confidence.

“Not anymore,” Sylvain told him with a smile that almost looked real.

“Why?” Glenn didn’t understand, it wasn’t like there was anything Sylvain could have done to make Miklan hate him. He was barely nine years old.

Sylvain’s smile should not be called that. “Crests,” he all but chirped, with such fake casualness that Glenn almost did not understand his answer. But when he did, the revelation hit him the same way the cold water had before.

Crests. Miklan was crestless.

Glenn had seen him cry about it, had seen how he considered it a personal failure, and how his father’s disapproval and disappointment had hurt him.

Sylvain had a crest, Glenn knew, the margrave had made sure everyone did.

Glenn could imagine Miklan being… jealous of his brother, but Sylvain’s reaction did not speak of a brother making fun of him, or ignoring him, but-

“Sylvain.” He didn’t quite know what he sounded like, but he saw the way Sylvain’s brown eyes went wide and looked at him carefully. Glenn forced himself to calm down, “Sylvain,” he breathed, “Did Miklan hurt you?”

The flinch was minuscule, and if Glenn had not been looking for it, he would have missed it. Glenn took a half step forward and opened his mouth, but Sylvain was faster.

“No, of course not,” Sylvain laughed and turned away, “We mostly avoid each other.” he shrugged, “Let’s go back to the others.”

And he walked off. It was a clear retreat. Glenn had not been able to hear a lie in the boy’s voice, but he had seen the flinch. On his chest, the sun pulsed with the rapid beat of fear. Something sour settled in Glenn’s stomach and he curled his hands into fists at his side.

What did Miklan do?

He resolved then and there to keep a close eye on his… likely once-friend. He did not like what he found, but there was never quite enough to tell his father.

\--

Glenn was thirteen when his mother lost her struggle against the illness that had plagued her since Felix’s birth. Unlike his younger brother, Glenn had known it was coming, but that did not change how terrible it was.

Everything passed in a daze. Glenn went about his duties, tried not to look at his brother - because he would cry, and then Felix would cry, and then- and tried not to think about the fact that he would never see his mother again.

One evening he stood in front of his brother’s room and listened to him sob, but could not bring himself to step inside. If Glenn started crying he felt like he would never stop.

What eventually woke him from the daze was the pulsing of his soulmark and the brighter glow on his chest. It took him longer than usual to remember what that meant, but once he did, he felt his shoulders sag.

The Gautiers were coming to visit. The margrave had plans to discuss with his father. Well, that probably would not happen now, but the margrave would come all the same. To pay his respects.

Glenn had… he had looked forward to the visit. After all, he had promised Felix he would take him and Sylvain on an adventure in the woods. There was an old waterfall nearby that was safest during this time of the years and-

He had wanted to keep an eye on Miklan too if the other boy came along, but right now, the prospect of having them around was draining.

\--

After the formal welcome, it fell to Glenn to make sure Miklan and Sylvain felt welcome, while his father walked off with the margrave. Almost woodenly he led them to one of the formal receiving rooms. He did not think about which one, but maybe he should have because the room they ended up in, was - had been - his mother’s favorite room.

Glenn almost stopped at the door and turned around, but could not bring himself to do even that. Instead, he pushed the door open and stepped inside, making a sweeping gesture towards the chairs.

They sat. No one talked.

Eventually, Miklan broke the silence, he was looking at Glenn, and there was something like sympathy in his gaze “You should have been prepared for that. The duchess had been hanging on by a threat for years now.” His voice was uncharacteristically soft, but that did not diminish the impact of his words.

Glenn stiffened and clenched his fists, his nails dug into his skin. He pressed his lips together so he did not spit out the insults at the tip of his tongue. That would hardly help. Miklan was already looking at him, and Glenn could see from the look on his face that the other already knew that his words were not well received.

The tense atmosphere in the room was broken by Felix’s sob. Glenn whirled to face his brother, heart in his throat, and eyes burning, but the younger boy was already half out of the room.

Suddenly furious, Glenn jumped to his feet as well, his chair hitting the ground with a clatter. Across from him, Miklan rose as well, eyeing him warily.

“Was that necessary?” Glenn asked, his voice louder then he would usually speak.

Miklan’s shoulders were drawn up defensively, his face still twisted into an apologetic expression.

“Glenn,” he said, “look-”

But Glenn cut him off, carding a hand through his hair. “He had just stopped crying Miklan. He isn’t dealing well with this… And as I… as his brother-”

Glenn hadn’t been acting like a good big brother either. Felix needed comfort. (So did Glenn. So did their father.)

Had he not been looking at Miklan, Glenn would not have seen the moment his expression changed, tightened. Miklan braced himself, contriteness falling away to be replaced by mocking and vague disdain.

“You spoil him.” Miklan accused him. “It wasn’t like my words were a lie! It was the truth. Everyone knew your mother was on borrowed time. Your brother,” he spat the word, “Is just a crybaby.”

Glenn’s fists were shaking at his side, and it took all of his self-control not to punch Miklan in the face. (His father wouldn’t approve, though he might understand.) From the corner of his eye, he saw Sylvain move away from them.

“So what?” his words came out as a hiss, “How does that excuse callousness?”

Glenn slashed his hand through the air. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, his soulmate mark pulsed on his chest and his crest tingled just beneath his skin.

“Felix is eight! He is a kid!”

Miklan scoffed, it only made Glenn more furious.

“What good does it do to be cruel to children?”

His mark pulsed faster and faster.

“For things that aren’t their fault? Would it have killed you to use some tact?”

Miklan laughed, “Oh, tact? You know I was right,” a pause, Glenn could see Miklan wrestle with his words, remembered that Miklan had felt bad right after, but unfortunately, he rallied. “Facts are facts.”

Behind them, the door opened and closed, Sylvain had left them as well.

Miklan threw a look in the door's direction. It was a nasty look, dismissive and cruel, tinged with disgust and anger and so much rage.

“Your brother needs toughening up. He is just a waste, just trash, otherwise.”

“Toughening up?”

The calm that descended on Glenn was eerie. It was as if all the anger inside of him had flipped around and instead of making him about to blow up, it pulled him tighter and tighter together.

“Is that what you do?” he heard himself ask, “Is that why your brother seems afraid of you? Does that make him trash? Or you?”

His words shocked Miklan and evidently taking him by surprise. His eyes went wide and he looked at Glenn dumbfounded. “You- How-”

Glenn scoffed and threw his once friend a look of disgust, before turning around and stalking away. He left Miklan behind in the room, standing alone in the room, and hands clenched at his side.

He was too exhausted to care what more Miklan had wanted to say. He needed to find his brother. As soon as the door fell shut behind them Glenn blinked rapidly and rubbed at his eyes. His tears wouldn’t help anyone.

\--

The search took him a moment, but eventually, Glenn found them hiding in the blueberry bushes. Just when he made to call out to them he heard his brother speak. Felix still sounded nasally and rough from crying, but the words were clear. “Yeah, dying together sounds better. It’s a promise.”

Firsts clenching at his side, and a tension in him that had vanished when he had found them, returned to him, Glenn went down into a crouch to crawl inside the bushes as well.

He saw Sylvain sitting next to his brother, one hand of a shoulder, and smiling at him. Felix - blotchy faced and with red and swollen eyes, was smiling back.

It would have been a cute scene if not for the words he had overheard.

Glenn cleared his throat, “I, “ announced himself sternly, and had the pleasure of seeing the two boys whirl to face him. “Hope that you plan on living first. Because I just lost my mother, and I would prefer for my friend and little brother to stick around for a long time.” His voice was tense.

Felix scrubbed at his eyes, and leaned towards him, watching as Glenn continued his crawl forward.

“Of course.” Glenn’s little brother sniffed in response, “Otherwise the promise is just stupid.”

Next to him, Sylvain nodded in response, but he did not seem as happy about Glenn’s arrival, instead, he was clearly weary, his eyes flickering to the space behind him.

Glenn pressed his lips tightly together. Miklan. Of course. He ignored the momentary relief he felt that it wasn’t him that Sylvain was weary about.

Then, to Glenn's surprise, Sylvain met his eyes and grinned. “You too, Gleen. If we have to die, let's do it together.”

The sun on his chest pulsed faster. Why? Nerves? Glenn did not know, so he took a moment to study Sylvain. The grin was genuine, but something about it did not sit well with him. “Only if there is no other way. First, we have to live.”

Sylvain’s eyes went a little wide, and the surprise on his face was hidden but still visible, but eventually, he smiled hesitantly at Glenn. Glenn smiled back.

\--

After their mother’s death, Felix started growing out his hair, Glenn didn’t, his had always been long. Instead, he took to putting his mother’s favorite hairpiece in his hair. It got him a few strange looks, but Glenn liked it anyway.

\--

Life went on, and to Glenn, it became more and more clear that something was really wrong with Sylvain and Miklan. Sometimes, he woke up in the middle of the night with his mark pulsing in sharp staccato, other times, the sudden uptick of the pulsing startled him out of his thoughts when he was working.

Miklan’s words rang in his ears, alongside the fear he had seen on Sylvain’s face. He wondered how far Miklan’s toughening up had gone, and how much of it was actual cruelty. Glenn didn’t like thinking that way about one of his friends, even if it was a distant friend, but now that he was looking for it, he could see bruises on Sylvain that weren’t the result of training. He could recognize the constant alertness and awareness of his surroundings, and he didn’t like it.

Whether Miklan was taking more care to hide whatever he was doing to Sylvain from Glenn more carefully now that Glenn had all but called him out, Glenn wasn’t sure, but he never saw something actually happen.

\--

Glenn had never felt as accomplished as he did the moment King Lambert presented him with his sword and then ordered him to rise as a knight of the kingdom.

He was only fifteen, and his knighting made him one of the youngest knights in the history of the Fearghus. Glenn preened under the attention he received.

His father was looking at him with pride, Felix next to him bouncing in excitement. The king looked at him with pride and appreciation, and prince Dimitri was beaming at him in awe. Ingrid too, standing with her brothers was cheering for him. Glenn winked at her and she flushed and clapped louder.

Some of his peers were looking at him in envy, but Cassandra Charon, whose record he had beaten by six months, winked at him. Even Miklan was clapping, and although there was a sour look on his face, he gave Glenn an acknowledging nod when their gazes met.

On his chest, the soulmate mark was beating steady and sure.

Glenn only spotted Sylvain once the ceremony was over. The younger of the Gautier sons was standing at the opposite side of the hall from his brother, and Glenn watched as Sylvain made very sure that it stayed that way as the party went one. It put a sour note into the otherwise festive atmosphere and firmed Glenn’s realization further.

As the evening progressed, Glenn managed to shake off his friends, his brother, and his very enthusiastic fiancee (he did not think he had ever seen Ingrid this engaged with something before, it was just a bit cute), and sought out Sylvain who was uncharacteristically hiding away.

“Sylvain!” Glenn called when he finally found him between two pillars. Sylvian startled- badly- and jerked around to face Glenn. He winced when he moved.

Narrowing his eyes and internally cursing the poor lighting in the room, both due to the location and the time, Glenn stepped closer.

He returned the strained smile Sylvain gave him.

“Hey, Glenn.”

Glenn huffed, “Hey yourself. What are you doing, hiding away here? I’m pretty sure Fe and the rest of them were looking or you.”

The shrug Sylvain gave as an answer was aborted halfway through, but the chuckle sounded careless. “Really? I’m pretty sure they were perfectly content asking you about what it is like to be the youngest knight in- what - a century? More?”

Pride welled up inside of Glenn at hearing his accomplishment again, but he forced himself not to let it distract him.

“Given that I don’t have much to tell them about it, they did tire eventually.”

This time Sylvain snickered - it was a genuine sound.

Glenn stepped up next to him and leaned against the pillar as well. A glance back at the ballroom showed him that it allowed for an excellent view of the room, without being easily spotted. If not for Sylvain’s bright red hair - and the glint of the gold threats at his collar that had first drawn Glenn’s eye - he might not have found him either.

The pulsing on his chest picked up slightly, and Glenn suppressed a sight.

“This is a good spot,” he noted instead, and felt Sylvain shrug from where their arms were almost touching, Glenn leaned sideways and made the almost touch a true one. Sylvain stilled, and for a moment Glenn though he had made a mistake, but then the boy relaxed.

“It is,” Sylvain agreed, “You can’t believe the stuff I saw today.”

The mischief in his voice made Glenn chuckle.

“Mhm,” he murmured, “Usually, you would be among those getting up to stuff for people to see. No insects hidden in the buffet today.”

Sylvain snickered. “Nah, couldn’t ruin your big day.”

Glenn huffed, warmed by the sentiment, even if the slight pulse on his chest marked it - hopefully only partially - a lie.

“How could it be ruined as long as you are here,” he said instead, and from the way Sylvain went stuff again, he might have been a bit too honest.

Hoping to distract Sylvain, Glenn turned awkwardly to the side and he reached over to ruffle the already messy hair. “You’re a riot, Sylvain, and laughter never hurt anyone. It’s my party, I say what goes.”

It worked, Sylvain relaxed again, but he also ducked his head avoiding Glenn’s eyes.

“Yeah.” He mumbled, “Thanks, Glenn.”

Glenn only hummed, and let his gaze wander over the throngs of people again. For a moment, he stared at Miklan, but the other boy was busy chatting with some of his friends and did not notice Glenn’s focus. Then, Glenn looked to his brother who was on the other side of the room.

He opened his mouth to speak, but Sylvain beat him to it, bumping his bony shoulder into Glenn’s side.

“Hey Glenn, I didn’t say it yet, but congrats on becoming a knight.”

Glenn chuckled, and looked down at him, “Thanks. What about you? You’re almost 12, will you start squiring soon?”

He realized something was wrong the moment the words left his mouth, as Sylvain went stiff as a board and the pulsing on his chest ticked up into a rapid staccato.

“Yes,” Sylvain answered him, “I’ll be squiring for one of out household knights. Together with Miklan.”

“I see,” And Glenn did, even if he wished he didn’t. He remembered quite clearly that Sylvain had been just as enthusiastic about becoming a squire as his highness and Felix (and Ingrid, and the outcome of that had been a heartbreak and a half), but now that Glenn had his suspicions about Miklan…

It made sense that something that had once been anticipated was now tainted. The (likely one-sided) sibling rivalry between Sylvain and Miklan was unlikely to improve if they had to work together under a knight loyal to Marius Gautier. If anything, it would probably further exacerbate the problem. Miklan was bitter about his lack of crest and - if Gleen guessed correctly - the privileged treatment that Sylvain received from his father due to bearing a crest.

Glenn remembered his father clicking his tongue in frustration when the Margrave had officially announced Sylvain as his heir. He had asked about it then, but Rodrigue had simply informed him that it was “a matter of house Gautier” and not something he could interfere with.

Neither could Glenn. If he was a couple of years older, he could have asked the Margrave to let Sylvain squire for him - Fraldarius and Gautier had always tried to keep good relations between them - but that was impossible as Glenn was scheduled to attend the Officers Academy in the next year.

It was frustrating.

“Well, make sure to keep me and Felix up to date on what you get up to as a squire - if you can work up the energy to write,” Sylvain looked up and him, eyebrows raised when Glenn spoke again, but Glenn simply raised his own in return and grinned, “Don’t give me that look. You will hardly have any free time and won’t travel around freely anymore, the ducklings will miss you,“ Slyvain’s lips twitched and he grinned as well, and, pleased with himself, Glenn went on, “and when you suddenly do, there will be little kids all around you, demanding your attention.”

Sylvain actually laughed at that, and Glenn messed up his hair again, he was glad that the morose mood was chased away, if only for the moment.

“And since you will be missing them soon, how about… you go to my brother, the prince, and Ingrid. I’m sure they would love your company, while I-” he gestured towards a table in the corner where Glenn’s friends - squires and other noble sons and daughters his own age and older than his brother and fiance - were mingling.

Sylvain laughed and turned. “Alright, Alright, I’ll distract the ducklings, you go have fun with your big friends. But you owe me one.”

Glenn clicked his tongue, “Can’t it be your present for my big day?”

Sylvain turned to look back at him over his shoulder, the movement pulled both his collar and hair away from his neck. Glenn’s heart stuttered.

“No,” Sylvain laughed, not noticing his pause, “Take it or leave it.”

Glenn forced his smile to remain.

“I’ll take it.” Thankfully, the loud music of the ballroom hid the way his voice shook.

Sylvain walked off, but Glenn remained standing frozen on the spot for a long moment.

There had been strangulation marks on Sylvain’s neck. 

\--

Even after that nasty revelation, and the suspicion that kept growing and growing and growing alongside Glenn’s anger, there was nothing he could do.

Sylvain did write them letters, both to Felix and his highness - and to Glenn too once in a while - and Glenn read them very carefully. However, Sylvain had some practice keeping his words neural and his face calm in face to face interactions, and he was even better at keeping his worries out of his letters.

Instead, he told them funny anecdotes and about all the stuff he learned. If not for the glaring absence of any mention of Miklan - or things more unpleasant than mucking the stable in general - Glenn might have been fooled.

To Glenn’s surprise, he was not the only one who picked up on the fact that something was wrong.

One afternoon, he came into the prince’s solar and found him and Felix pouring over one of Sylvain’s letters, both of them frowning.

“He says that everything is just really great,” the prince was saying as Glenn opened the door, and Felix hummed along, “That does sound strange, usually-”

They broke up their discussion when Glenn cleared his throat.

“Hey, you two.” Glenn waved,

“Glenn!” The Prince called cheerfully, and Felix nodded at him -- ah, Glenn thought, he was having another one of his acting-like-an-adult phases.

“What kind of trouble are the two of you up to?” Glenn asked, as he stepped inside the room and closed the door behind him, “Seeing you plotting like that is worrying. Do I need to keep an eye out for trouble?”

Felix gave him an unamused look. “Always,” he affirmed and sounded so much like their father during one of his lectures, that Glenn had to bite back his laughter.

The prince giggled as well, and Felix flushed in pleasure. His brother had always liked making the prince happy.

“Well,” Glenn insisted, glancing at the letter, that was sadly hidden under the boy’s sleeves, “If not trouble, what are you up to?”

Prince Dimitri’s laughter vanished, and an expression somewhere between a pout and a frown found its way on Felix's face.

“It’s Sylvain.” his brother mumbled, “His letter sounds strange.”

Glenn crossed over to the table, “Yours too, huh.”

Both boys’ eyes fixed on him.

“Yours too?” they coursed.

Glenn nodded. “Yeah… But that’s not what I came here for.”

Felix grumbled, “But it’s important. Something could be wrong.”

“I will check up on Sylvain,“ Glenn promised them. “Father is sending me to Gautier with a message. And no-” He told them before they could do more than open their mouth, “I can not take you along.”

Glenn only got to go on his own because he was a knight now, and only under the condition that he took the main road. It was his father’s protective tendency at his finest, Glenn had only gotten out of getting assigned a big guard party by pointing out that come spring he would be traveling to Garreg Mach on his own as well. (Or at least that had been the plan so far. After the look his father had given him he wasn’t sure anymore.)

Felix and Prince Dimitri pouted, but if his eleven years of being an older brother had taught him anything, it was how to resist the pout.

“Alright,” the prince eventually conceded, somehow he managed to make it sound like there had been an argument in the first place and he was doing Glenn a favor by giving in. How cute, “But make sure to tell him that we miss him a lot.”

Felix nodded along. “Yeah, Sylvain gets sad if he is left alone for too long,” he paused and wrinkled his nose, “And he only has Miklan around.”

This time it was Prince Dimitri who nodded along. “Yeah, Sylvain, doesn’t really like being around Miklan all the time.”

Glenn nodded, “I know, and I will.”

Then he ruffled their hair, one hand for each messy head.

“Well, father expects me to leave in the morning. You have until then to write some letters if you want me to take them along.”

And at that, the boys rushed back to the table.

\--

Glenn was almost at Gautier when he was startled by the sound of someone screaming in the woods. For one short moment, Glenn feared that it was an attack, but the shouting did not sound like battlecries. It was more like someone shouting for help after an accident.

On the one hand, it could be a trap, even if this was a terrible place to set up a trap, it wasn’t even the main road that bigger caravans used. On the other hand, someone could be in serious trouble, and if Glenn did not go check it out he would not forgive himself.

Coming to a decision, Glenn led his horse off the path towards the shouting. As he came closer he realized that the shouting person was a child. It was also coming from the direction of the river, so he could only imagine what kind of situation the kid shouting for help was in. It made him double glad that he had made the choice to investigate, he urged his horse on a bit faster. The child was still calling for help, was pleading and begging someone to stop.

Something heavy settled in Glenn’s stomach. That did not sound like an accident. Immediately, his hand went to the hilt of his sword.

Something about the voice was -

Glenn had no words to describe how glad at his decision and furious he was when he rode out of the tree line and onto the riverbank.

The first thing he saw was red hair. Miklan was standing not far from where Glenn had come from the treeline, leaning against a tree. He had a lance in his hand and was looking towards the river, he looked comfortable and at ease. There was a smile on his face.

And in the river, there was another red-haired head poking out of the water.

“Miklan what the fuck?” Glenn cursed loudly and jumped from the back of his horse.

Miklan startled at the sound of his voice, “Glenn- how?”

But Glenn paid him no attention, he hasted towards the river. Sylvain spotted him as well

“Glenn!” Sylvain sobbed in the middle of the river, desperately holding on to one of the stones poking out from the rushing water. His lips were already blue.

Behind him Glenn heard Miklan scoff, “It’s not deep, if he stops being a sissy he can actually stand.”

But Glenn didn’t listen to him, he had already thrown aside his sword and pack and jumped into the river. The water was biting cold and almost hurt, but he did not stop. The rushing current tugged at his clothes and slowed him down, but Glenn pushed through.

The river near Gautier was not particularly deep or wide, but it had a very strong current, had Glenn not braced himself against it, he would have easily been carried away.

Making his way over to Sylvain, who was somewhere near the middle of the river, took longer than Glenn would have liked. He spared a moment to wonder how the boy could have ended up in the middle of it, but all possibilities he could think of were bleak, so he pushed it aside.

“Calm, Sylvain. Stay where you are!” Glenn shouted, not feeling very calm himself, when he noticed that Sylvain was trying to meet him halfway.

“Glenn!” Sylvain was whimpering and shaking, his eyes scrambling across the stone.

“Stay calm,” Glenn ordered, even though it was quite clear that Sylvain likely had never been calm to begin with.

Eventually, Glenn reached him and before he could reach out, Sylvain lunged for him, wrapped his arms around his neck, and his legs around his hip. Then he clung to him with the desperation of a drowning man, and Glenn hated that it was nothing but the truth.

Wrapping one arm around the shaking boy, Glenn steadied himself with one hand against the rock Sylvain had previously been clinging too, and slowly turned around to make his way back to the shore.

Miklan had likely been right about Sylvain being able to stand in the water, at least for the most part. What that did not include, however, was his ability to breath while standing. Because while his eyes might have been above the water, his mouth and nose wouldn’t have. Nor did it account for Sylvain being able to keep his balance.

Glenn himself was having trouble with the last part, and he was still quite a bit taller and heavier then Sylvain. If he had thought that his progress towards Sylvain had been slow, it was nothing compared to the way back.

Twice, he nearly stumbled and got swept away by the current, and each step was a battle, but Glenn did not relent and did not let go of Sylvain, who was shaking against him, taut as a bowstring.

Sylvain did not loosen even when Glenn carried him out of the river. Glenn made no attempt to set him down and instead made his way over to his cloak, pack, and sword. Picking them up was awkward with Sylvain still clinging to him, but Glenn made do.

Miklan was still standing to the side and watching him. He moved closer when Glenn made his way out of the river, but wisely kept some distance between them.

“It’s not my fault that he was stupid and fell into the river,” Miklan told Glenn, but he ignored him. Whatever it was that had happened before Glenn had arrived, there were two things he knew for sure. One: Sylvain had been calling for help for a while, and Two: Miklan had made no move to help him.

Glenn threw him a look so full of disgust that Miklan stepped back, but that was all the attention he gave the older Gautier. He had other - far more important - things to worry about. Like Sylvain, who was still shaking, and still not letting him go.

Eventually, Glenn managed to maneuver both of them onto the back of his horse. Miklan was talking again, somewhere behind them, but who he was talking to, Glenn had no clue, because he certainly wasn’t paying any attention to him, no matter how often Miklan said his name.

Instead, he urged his horse forward.

Miklan fell behind quickly.

“Sylvain,” Glenn asked after they had put some distance between them and Miklan, “What happened?”

But Sylvain only shook his head and burrowed his face into Glenn's shoulder, his cold nose pressing against his neck. He was still shaking, likely both as an aftereffect of the adrenaline and the cold.

Pursing his lips, Glenn decided to let it go for now. Instead, he wrapped one of his arms and cloak a bit tighter around Sylvain and urged his horse to go just a bit faster.

When he rode into Gautier, dripping wet and with Sylvain in the same shape, the margrave looked stumped. As soon as Glenn started talking, despite Sylvain tugging his clothes and telling him not too, Marius Gautier’s face turned furious.

Miklan did not have a comfortable homecoming.

\--

Glenn was still in the room he had been given by the margrave, and finally warm again after his bath when a knock on the door startled him from his thoughts.

“Come in,” he called and let the towel he had been using on his hair drop to his shoulders. He wasn’t sure who to expect - not Miklan certainly, and not the margrave either, it would be strange to have the man visit him in his room unless he had further questions - but he hadn’t expected Sylvain.

Maybe he should have.

Sylvain hesitated in the doorway, even after Glenn waved him inside, but when Glenn moved over to the small seating area, he followed.

“Thanks.” Sylvain eventually told him, his voice subdued and not meeting his eyes, “For helping me out of the river.” he laughed, it sounded fake, “I was acting pretty stupid, I should have been able to deal with that.”

“Excuse me?” Glenn blurted out. “What do you mean deal with that? Obviously-”

But Sylvain shook his head. “It was training, Glenn. Miklan,” he stumbled over his brother’s name, “Miklan was just preparing me.”

The laugh that burst out of Glenn at those words was both incredulous and derisive, Sylvain flinched, his soulmate mark skipped a beat.

“Training?” Glenn repeated, he could not soften his word. “That- That wasn’t training Sylvain. He put you into a rushing river and watched you almost drown.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Sylvain insisted, and there was something desperate in his eyes, “It’s like Miklan said, I would have been able to stand in the river, I was just too much of a coward to try.”

“With your head under the water, maybe,” Glenn informed him mercilessly, he did not like, nor could he fully understand Sylvain trying to apologize Miklan’s behavior.

Sylvain opened his mouth again - to argue probably - but Glenn cut him off.

“And even if you could have, that does not make it alright.”

Sylvain stiffened.

“He shouldn’t have done it,” Glenn insisted, “What he did - putting you in that river - was dangerous. Even if the river hadn’t been as strong as it was, given the weather, it was irresponsible and dangerous. Cruel.” Sylvain flinched and drew up his shoulders defensively, but Glenn forced himself to continue, “It wasn’t training.”

There was a question in his words that Glenn wasn’t quite sure how to ask. How do you ask someone if all his training was like that? How did you ask someone if their older brother had been torturing them?

Sylvain picked up his question anyway. He avoided Glenn’s gaze, his shoulders still pulled up high and his posture curled inward defensively.

“It- It’s really not bad. I’m the heir to house Gautier,” he sounded like he was repeating something he had been told so often that the words did not need any thought, “I can’t be weak.”

“And I am the heir to house Fraldarius,” Glenn refuted, watching Sylvain carefully, “Future shield of the King, sworn to defend him and keep him alive no matter what. I can’t be weak either.”

“You aren’t.” Sylvain insisted, “You are the youngest knight in a century, and you are strong.”

Usually, hearing that would have pleased Glenn and stroked his ego, but right now it only made him angry.

“Yes,” he agreed, forcing his voice to stay even, “I am. And I trained hard to become so.”

Sylvain’s smile was wobbly, “Then you do under-”

“But, “ Glenn cut him off insistently, “Never would my father - or anyone else involved in my training, for that matter - have allowed me to be needlessly endangered or,“ he forced the word out, “All but tortured, in the name of training.”

Sylvain stayed quiet and hunched even further in on himself.

“Training can be hard,” Glenn allowed, watching him very carefully, “But that stunt Miklan pulled… it wasn’t just hard training. It wasn’t training at all, really.”

He breathed in and out, focused on the rapid pulsing of his soulmate mark. “Was it the first time he did something like this?”

Sylvain’s flinch made any further answer unnecessary.

“Sylvain…” Glenn grappled with his words, he honestly had no idea how to deal with a situation like this. “You-”

“It-It’s my fault,” Sylvain mumbled, his voice almost inaudible. Glenn frowned, unsure if he had understood the words correctly.

“What?” He asked.

“It’s my fault!” Sylvain repeated, this time louder, and with conviction in his voice. He met Glenn's gaze firmly. “If it wasn’t for me, Miklan wouldn’t be like this.”

“That’s bullshit.” Glenn cut in, “Where did you get that idea from?”

Sylvain looked at him uncertainly, but rallied after a beat, “Miklan said,” Well, Glenn thought, that explained that, “Miklan said that everything was better before I got born. That he was the heir before I came around, and that if it wasn’t for me, he would be who he was supposed to be.”

The boy swallowed, but he did not look away from Glenn's gaze. Glenn wasn’t sure if that made the whole situation better or worse. Worse probably. His fists clenched at his side, but for the moment he forced himself to listen.

“If it wasn’t for me being born with a crest, Miklan would be the heir.” Sylvain swallowed again, his gaze flickered away from a moment, “You know I’m not good at that stuff, Glenn. Miklan would be better at it, if not for the crest he would be the heir father wanted. It’s wasted on someone like me.”

At the end of his… explanation, Sylvain shrugged with forced carelessness. “So,” he concluded, “He is trying to make sure that… I am not a complete failure. You shouldn’t have… made father blame him.”

He looked at Glenn like he expected him to agree. Glenn took a deep breath, it came out as a shudder. He had no idea where to begin. Maybe at the most important part.

“You are not a failure.” he refused and put all his certainty behind it. Sylvain simply looked back at him. Glenn sighed, “Miklan was never the heir your father wanted, and he always knew it too.”

“But-”

Glenn cut Sylvain off, “Your father made no secret of it that he considered Miklan’s lack of crest to be something he could not overlook. He just had no alternative and so Miklan stayed the heir.”

Glenn took another deep breath, “I don’t know if Miklan would be a better heir than you if he had a crest, but by his current actions - by how he is treating you - I would say no.”

Sylvain shook his head, “But if it wasn’t for me he wouldn’t be-”

“Are you sure?” Glenn asked, “Or would he have found something else to be bitter and angry about? I think he simply would have blamed on someone else instead.”

“But, Miklan isn’t- He isn’t all bad, he was a good brother and then-”

“Yeah,” Glenn agreed, “I know, but that neither excuses his current actions or makes them right. Whatever his problem is, the anger he directs at you… it’s wrong.”

Sylvain continued shaking his head, but his head was not the only thing shaking now. He was no longer looking at Glenn. “But…”

“What he is doing is wrong, and… whatever it is that caused it,” Marius Gautier's words and stance on crestless sons probably, “Is in no way shape or form your fault.”

Glenn had not expected Sylvain to flinch away at his words, nor had he expected his soulmate mark to pulse almost painfully. Regardless, for the first time since the whole conversation started, Glenn knew that what he was about to say was the right thing.

“It’s not your fault.” he repeated, “What Miklan is doing is wrong, and it’s not your fault.”

From the look in Sylvain’s eyes, it was clear that he did not believe Glenn, but Glenn was also sure that Sylvain wanted to believe him.

“It’s not your fault.” he insisted again.

The tears welling up in Sylvain’s eyes did not come as a surprise, nor was Sylvain looking away and trying to hide them.

Glenn approached him and carefully wrapped his arms around him, pulling him against his side and holding him like he would Felix when he cried. He made sure to move slowly and give Sylvain ample time to pull away, but he didn’t. Sylvain stiffened at first, but when Glenn did not react, he eventually relaxed against his side.

He was still suppressing his sobs though, so Glenn held him a little tighter, and turned slightly so they were in a proper hug and not just a side hold. “It’s not your fault,” he repeated again, and again until all the tension went out of Sylvain and he started crying in earned, leaning back into Glenn and gripping his shirt. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

By the time Sylvain stopped crying, Glenn’s hair was mostly dry, and Glenn got the feeling that Sylvain had been holding back his tears for a long time.

The spot where Sylvain was pressing his face against his chest was sticky and wet with his tears, but Glenn did not let it bother him. It might be a bit uncomfortable, but that minuscule amount of discomfort was a price he was perfectly willing to pay. Sylvain’s head was also right above Glenn’s soulmark and he wondered if Sylvain could feel it pulse like this. If he did, he did not let it show.

Even after he had stopped crying, Sylvain did not try to pull out of the embrace, and Glenn carefully continued rubbing his back and carding his free hand through the messy hair. Sylvain’s hair was already dry, it was one of the advantages of short hair, he supposed.

“Miklan…” Sylvain started but trailed off pressing his face against Glenn's chest again. Glenn shrugged - lightly, so not to disturb him, and carded his hand through Sylvain’s hair again. He kept his voice carefully even.

“Miklan makes his own choices, and you are not responsible for, or to blame for, his choices and mistakes.”

Sylvain nodded, but Glenn was fairly sure that it would take him a longer time to actually believe it.

They stayed standing like that for a moment, and Sylvain kept leaning more and more heavily on him. I was calm, almost peaceful, and the pulsing of his mark was a slow steady trod of contentment.

“Don’t talk to my father, Glenn.” Sylvain eventually mumbled into his shoulder.

Glenn stiffened. “And why not?”

Sylvain shrugged, “I don’t want to get him into further trouble.”

The huff of amusement Glenn let out was resigned, “That’s the thing, Sylvain, this isn’t you getting Miklan into trouble, this is him having to face the consequences of his actions.”

\--

That incident ended what was left of his friendship with Miklan. Glenn had no regrets.

At the beginning of the next month, Sylvain started squiring for one of Lord Charon’s sons and the tone of his letters changed. Felix and his highness praised Glenn for his performance. The little shits.

Still, it was good, even if Glenn did not think the matter was resolved.

\--

Eventually, it was Glenn's time to leave for the Officer’s academy. He was almost seventeen, so he had expected it. His father had warned him that he would likely be the house leader, and while Glenn did not look forward to keeping his classmates in line, he supposed that he at least had some practice.

Miklan was not going. The margrave was still displeased with him and had evidently taken steps to teach his eldest some lessons, the question was whether they would take or not. He had said his goodbyes to his father and the king earlier today since both of them were in meetings for the day and could not see him off. 

The ducklings - and Sylvain, who had accompanied Mattheus Charon to Fhirdiad - saw him off at the castle gates, however. 

Felix was almost crying again - and he had already cried the evening before, as well as when his father had first informed Glenn of his enrollment - and the only thing keeping the tears contained so far was probably the firm grip that the prince had on his hand. 

The prince himself looked mostly jealous that Glenn got to go on an adventure, out of all of them he got to travel the least, mostly because it needed much greater arrangements for the prince - and the only heir of the king - to travel. 

Ingrid was fascinated and begged him to write her all about his lessons. He wouldn’t do what she wanted - it honestly sounded a bit like she wanted his class notes - though he would certainly make sure to tell her about the academy. Privately, Glenn hoped that Ingrid’s father would allow her to attend the academy herself, her brothers had gone, but so far there had been no word on the matter of Ingrid’s future attendance. 

Glenn decided to talk - no, write - his father on the matter so that he could drop some hints about how adventurous it would be for her to attend alongside Felix and the prince. 

Sylvain looked a bit unsure standing behind his friends, so Glenn made sure to include him. 

“What’s with the look, sunshine?” Glenn asked him, reaching over the heads of the much shorter kids to mess up the red hair, not that there was much for him to mess up. 

Sylvain sputtered, and the rest of them laughed.

“What’s with the name?” he returned half-jokingly, but the question was an honest one, so Glenn answered - at least somewhat.

“It suits you. In fact,” he made a show of thinking, “I called you like that when you were a baby too, all the crying made your whole face red… and with your hair, you looked a bit like a sun.” He winked at Sylvain, to take any sting out of the words.

Sylvain huffed, but at least he seemed genuinely amused now.

“Was Sylvain a very round baby?” Ingrid asked, her eyes sparkling with humor. For all that she was generally the most responsible one of the lot, she had a mischievous steak as well.

Glenn grinned at her, “The roundest. All soft and chubby. And drooly.”

They laughed, and even Sylvain seemed amused though there was a flush on his cheeks and he kept throwing Glenn curious looks. 

Glenn raised a brow at him in question, but only got a shake of his head in return. So he shrugged it off. 

They talked a bit longer, but eventually, the party around them started to get ready to leave. Glenn’s father had arranged for him to travel with a merchant caravan, ostensibly to protect them, but given that he was hardly the only protection with them, Glenn knew it was also protection for him. It was sensible so he had not argued. 

“And you, Sylvain? What do you want to hear all about?”

Sylvain shrugged seemingly careless, but there was a thoughtful look in his eyes. He opened his mouth, and closed it again, when he actually answered, Glenn was sure it wasn’t what he had originally intended to say. 

“How about you tell me about all the ladies you meet, especially the important ones. So I can prepare myself.”

“Sure,” Glenn agreed and ignored the outraged noises from Ingrid and Felix as well as the prince’s sputtering. Sylvain’s eyes went wide in surprise. Glenn smirked, “I’ll tell you if the lunch ladies are as scary as Martha. Important info. I understand.”

He nodded sagely and they all laughed.

“Not what I meant,” Sylvain said, but he was laughing, “But I suppose it will do.”

Glenn chuckled and messed up his hair. 

“Quiet.”

Absentmindedly he noted that Sylvain had had another growth spurt, if Glenn himself wasn’t blessed with one soon, they would be about the same height, and that would be just strange.

Still laughing, Sylvain swatted his hand away. Behind them, the caravan master called for the people to get ready, Glenn hefted his backpack. 

“Well, I’m off,” He grinned at them, “Try to behave?”

Felix sniffed, and Glenn gave in the urge to wrap him in a hug with one arm. Small hands grabbed his shirt. He would probably have snot on his shirt, but there were worse things.

“Of course,” The prince told him, looking rather like he wanted to hug Felix too. Dimitri had never been good with Felix’s tears.

“You’ll write?” Ingrid asked, sounding nervous and fidgeting with the sleeve of her shirt. Glenn nodded at her and used his free hand to tug her braid. 

“Sure.” he agreed, then he clapped Sylvain on the shoulder and messed up the prince’s hair. Dimitri beamed at him. “Make sure to write back.”

They all nodded, and Felix stepped away from him, sniffing loudly. “Of course we will.” Felix insisted, Glenn grinned. “Good. Well,” He gestured towards his horse. “I’m off.”

And he turned around and made his way to his horse before Felix decided that he rather wanted another hug. Glenn always had trouble saying no to him, and he did not think it would make a good impression on the caravan master if he delayed them.

“Bye Glenn!” Prince Dimitri called after him, Glenn noticed with some amusement that the grip the prince and on Felix’s hand was probably the reason his brother wasn’t being difficult, “Don’t you dare forget to write!”

The other’s echoed him and Glenn shouted back his agreement. 

\--

The academy was a trial and a half, and Glenn made sure to write each of the ducklings very detailed letters of it. He told them of his classes, his classmates, and the facilities. He also told them that the knights of Seiros sometimes trained with students - and how much he was learning.

Ingrid’s letters were the most difficult ones, mainly because he did not know if she was ever allowed to go, only one of her brothers - the eldest and heir - had attended the academy. Ingrid might have gotten some special treatment on account of her crest, but that treatment was usually directed in another direction. Glenn did not want to be cruel by telling her about all the things she might never experience, but he did not wish to exclude her from the tales he told her friends either.

And so, each letter was a struggle.

\--

Glenn’s eventual return to Faerghus was strange, not because of Faerghus itself, but because the people he had left behind had changed. He had seen Prince Dimitri and Felix when they had accompanied his father on a visit to the academy, of course, but the visit had been short and they had not actually spent much time together. 

Glenn was somewhat startled to realize that Prince Dimitri had reached the awkward boner phase, but given his age, that shouldn’t have been a surprise. Given his own - absolutely dreadful - experiences on that front, Glenn decided not to tease him too much. 

Felix, at least, had mostly stayed the same. He still stuck to his highness' side and pouted terribly. Though he seemed to have improved his self-control: In the week Glenn had been back he had only seen him cry once and that had been due to frustration. It was time for him to grow up, but Glenn would be sad to see his crybaby brother grow up. 

The changes in Sylvain were the least unexpected ones. On that front, at least, the constant letters had prepared him. Sylvain had entered puberty full force, and now apparently reached a height that made him interesting for the objects of his attention as well. For all that he wasn’t all that interested in the exploits Sylvain continued to regale him with, they were amusing enough and the stories were always good for a laugh. Seeing Sylvain’s attempts in person turned out to be even better.

Glenn had no idea how someone could be so smooth and so utterly tactless at the same time. Seeing a girl Sylvain was flirting with go from swooning to attempting to remove his head from his body was hilarious, but Glenn could not shake the feeling that there was more to it than Sylvain putting his foot in his mouth. And that faint suspicion gained prominence when Glenn spotted Sylvain’s face as one of the girls he had been going out with walked away after slapping him. 

There was more behind Sylvain’s behavior, and Glenn had a feeling that he needed to get to the bottom of it - as soon as he figured out how.

Surprisingly, it was Ingrid - usually the least troublesome one of the lot - who Glenn had the most trouble dealing with. Because Ingrid was infatuated with him.

It wasn’t the first time Glenn had experienced someone having a crush on him - it was not even the first time a friend had a crush on him, but it was... different with Ingrid.

For one, Ingrid was five years younger than him, and for all that, she had moments where she blushed and giggled like the young women Glenn’s age - when she was not kicking the asses of her friends that is- she was still very much a little girl to him. 

Usually, this wouldn’t have been a problem, crushes were just that after all, but Ingrid was also his fiancee if he made a mistake in handling the situation their future together could be a troublesome one. The matter confounded him so much that he went to his father for advice, unfortunately, the old man was useless, King Lambert, on the other hand, advised him to treat her as he always had, but make sure to also act like a fiance should, on matters that did not make him uncomfortable. Either she would grow out of the crush, or things would settle once they were both older. 

(The king also added that if Glenn had any other dalliances and interests he should keep them very discreet - Glenn left the room very quickly.)

For lack of better options, Glenn followed the first part of the advice. In the next tournament for the younger knight, he took part in he asked for Ingrid’s favor, and when he won he kissed her on the cheek and thanked her. While the latter part seemed to have disappointed her a little, in general, it seemed to be working, and it made handling the situation a lot easier.

That only left the Sylvain issue, and eventually, Glenn decided to just ask.

\--

“So, why does it look like you don’t actually like the girls you are flirting with?”

Seeing the way Sylvain startled, cursed and almost dropped his breakfast plate was amusing, but Glenn reached out to take it off his hands and place it on the table all the same.

Sylvain looked at him, still startled and wide eyes, “Damn it, Glenn, warn a man!”

Glenn grinned and dropped into the seat next to him, “Sure thing,  _ brat _ .”

The scowl he got in return was fierce, but Glenn did not let it bother him, “So?”

Sylvain shoved some sausage into his mouth, “So what?”

Glenn took a bite of his breakfast as well, “You, the girls, flirting?” he waved his fork around, “Why?”

Sylvain chewed and for a moment it looked like he would ignore the questions, as they ate their breakfast in silence, but then he spoke up again.

“Girls only want me for one reason,” he told Glenn blandly.

Glenn stopped chewing and turned his face to the side Sylvain met his gaze evenly, a determined look on his face. Glenn finished chewing, swallowed then wiggled his eyebrows, “No offense, Sylvain, but I don’t think you are  _ that  _ good.”

To Glenn’s hilarity, it took Sylvain a surprisingly long moment to understand what Glenn had been referring too, and when he did, he actually sputtered.

“Not that,” Though he seemed momentarily smug after the initial surprise had faded, “They are after my crest.” Sylvain scoffed, “They want my crest baby.”

That was...

“All of them?” Glenn could not quite believe that, he was sure at least some of them were genuine, or, at least, in it for some fun. (In fact, one of the young ladies he had seen Sylvain flirt with had a reputation for the latter.)

Sylvain only shrugged.

“Are you sure?” Glenn probed, “Where does that idea even come from? It’s not like you are so bad looking.”

“You think I am good looking?” Now the brat sounded smug.

Glenn gave him a droll look, “Fishing for compliments?” he rolled his eyes, “Yes, you are, can't say much for the personality,” he added, but took the possible sting from the words by messing up Sylvain’s hair. 

Sylvain laughed, “Thanks Glenn, you are pretty too.”

For that, Glenn elbowed him into the side. “So?”

His companion sobered, “I suppose the looks are a bonus for them then, but they don’t want me.”

“I don’t understand.” Glenn confessed after a moment of pause, “From what I have seen you were not really trying to get to know them either.”

Sylvain stiffened. “I know enough.” There was more to that that Sylvain wasn't telling, Glenn suddenly realized, but before he could question him, Sylvain continued.

“And of course you don’t understand,” Sylvain told him not without frustration, “You will marry Ingrid, and she likes you for you.”

Glenn studied him. “She likes her knight. But, you are right, I have no doubt that Ingrid cares for me, and that we will manage to at least have a comfortable and respectful relationship.”

He shrugged, “That does not mean that I was always happy about the betrothal.” Sylvain looked surprised by his words, “She is five years younger than me, Sylvain, and for all that I quite like her, there were times when I wished I could have chosen my future for myself.”

But he was the oldest son of house Fraldarius, and he could not.

Sylvain was silent for a long moment, and then he picked up his utensils and started eating again. Glenn pushed the end of his sausage back and forth on his plate.

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” Glenn stated plainly, on his chest, the mark pulsed in surprise, “And… If you are sure that those girls don’t want to get to know you… why don’t you…”

Next to him Sylvain straightened and turned to face Glenn again, “Frankly, Glenn, it’s none of your business.” he paused, “I appreciate the sentiment,” he did not sound like it. “But I can make my own choices, and I’m just looking to have fun.”

Glenn pursed his lips but nodded. He would not pry into this, but it didn’t seem right to let it go either. Pushing, however, would get him nowhere. 

After that conversation, Glenn had not anticipated being anything more than an observer and, maybe, occasionally a commenter of Sylvain’s dalliances. He continued to help Sylvain hide when a lady - or one of her siblings - was on the warpath, but he kept his thoughts to himself. 

Even if those thoughts sometimes did not sit well with him. Especially, because whatever bond - if Glenn dared to even call it that - Sylvain managed to build with the girls he dated seemed unrecoverably shattered soon after. 

It seemed self-destructive, but Glenn had no idea what to do.

In no way, shape for form, could he have anticipated what would follow.

\--

The knock on the door rattled Glenn’s brain more than a simple knock had any right to. To him it sounded like someone was trying to break down the door, Glenn groaned and buried his face in his pillow.

He felt like he had only laid down an hour ago.

Whoever was at his door was persistent. The knocking continued. 

Glenn had no idea who it was, but he knew that he had no interest in seeing them. Not even his little brother.

Another knock, and whoever was on the other side of the door seemed to have gotten really invested because the knocking had picked up the rhythm of one of the currently popular musical songs. Glenn would know. Felix had dragged him - and various others - to watch it four times.

The knocker had reached the chorus now. Glenn flopped onto his back, glad that he had had the presence in mind to draw the curtains closed last evening. Spread on his back he noted that the pulsing feeling on his chest had nothing to do with his headache or the knocking. 

His hand landed on the center of his chest and he rubbed his fingers over it. Touch always made the pulsing more intense. 

Glenn sighed, knowing who was at the other side of the door and, well, he would get out of bed for this, no one could blame him. 

“A moment!” He shouted at the door, at this point he had lived in this room long enough to know exactly how loud he had to talk to get heard. Pretty loudly, which was good for privacy usually, but his current headache made it hard to appreciate it right now. He needed more sleep.

The knocking in the door gained a cheerful edge.

With a groan, he rolled out of bed. He was thankfully wearing clothes, sleep clothes, but clothes all the same. He had put on after his quick bath yesterday, and while Glenn was sure his father would not approve of him opening the door like this, Glenn himself couldn’t be bothered. He only carded his hand through his hair a couple of times to get rid of the worst of the tangles and chanced a look into the mirror to make sure his face was fine - it was, except for the pillow creases on his cheek, but there was nothing he could do about that.

The room he had been given as a member of the royal guard was small, so it only took him two strides to make his way over to the door and swing it open.

“Sylvain.” he said, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorway before he even spotted the red hair, “What do you want?”

Sylvain’s eyes wandered over him and the grin on his face got wider when he took in Glenn’s appearance. His hand was still raised in front of him to continue knocking. Most people would have lowered their hand awkwardly, but not Sylvain, the little shit only stretched his arm out further, and instead of knocking on the door, he finished up the rhythm tapping against Glenn’s chest.

Glenn let him finish the part, before swatting the hand away and giving Sylvain his best ‘not-impressed’ look. It always worked, even on Sylvain who was two years older than Glenn’s cute younger brother. 

“Good evening, Glenn,” At least it worked somewhat on Sylvan, better than it worked on Glenn’s father at least. Small victories were worth mentioning. 

Glenn carded his hand through his hair again, “I’m still considering whether it is a good evening or not. Are you going to make it better or worse, Sunshine?”

In front of him, Sylvain stilled, then frowned. “You know I don’t like it when you call me that.” 

Something in his tone was different and gave Glenn pause. He opened his eyes fully to take a proper look at him. At almost sixteen, Sylvain was in the awkward phrase between boyhood and manhood, though given his success with the other gender, he dealt with it remarkably well.

“Mhm, but you never told me why… and you only complain sometimes.”

Sylvain shifted his balance from his toes to his heel and back, he did not answer. With a sigh, Glenn stepped back and waved Sylvain into the room. His invitation was followed without hesitation, though Sylvain seemed unusually nervous.

Glenn carded his hand through his hair again, - it was not a nervous habit - trying to work out some of the tangles, both from training and sleeping. It made him remember why he hated going to bed without braiding his hair.

Sylvain was alternating between watching him and studying his room, and the smile on his face was a nervous one.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he eventually said, “I can leave. I didn’t think you would actually be asleep.”

Glenn shrugged and leaned against his table, “I’m up now. So it doesn’t matter. What is it you wanted?”

Now it was Sylvain’s turn to shrug, Glenn’s eyebrows rose. Whatever Sylvain had come for was probably of some form of importance to him, otherwise, he never had any trouble blurting it out. 

At the lack of verbal response, Glenn hummed thoughtfully, “Does it have anything to do with the fact that you are looking a bit cloudy today, sunshine?”

Sylvain met his gaze, tellingly, this time, there was no complaint about the nickname, though, after a moment of eye contact, Sylvain’s gaze flickered away again.

“That might be a result of your headache, Glenn.”

Glenn snorted and pushed away from the table to get himself a glass of water. He made an offering gesture in Sylvain's direction but got a shake of his head in return. 

“So?” Glenn asked, taking a sip of his water and sitting down again, this time on the bed.

“I,” Sylvain seemed nervous, “I have a favor to ask.” He eventually blurted out, refusing to look at him and instead sitting down on the chair by the table. Given that Glenn’s clothes were still thrown over it, they would likely be crinkled, but that was fine, they could go into the wash.

“A favor, huh?” Glenn took another sip, “Well, what is it?” There was no answer, so Glenn took another sip. “Is it illegal?” Because that would be… troubling.

Thankfully, Sylvain shook his head, but he still did not answer, instead, he started chewing on his bottom lip.

When Glenn took a closer look at him - with some water in his system his head ached a lot less - he was startled to find that Sylvain had left being slightly nervous behind and was actually flushed and almost jittery. Glenn set down his glass on the bedside table.

When Sylvain finally spoke again, he was carefully not looking at Glenn himself, but instead, at the glass, he had set aside.

“Look,” a pause, “So, you… You probably heard about, uh,” another pause, “My success with the ladies.”

Glenn grinned and nodded easily. “You made no secret of it.” he retorted with humor, though he did not know how Sylvain’s current state could relate to that, “So it’s Lady trouble?” Glenn's smile faltered slightly at the thought that followed, did Sylvain knock someone up? If so, that could get troublesome.

“No.” Sylvain retorted quickly, confidence momentarily returned to his voice as he spoke, “This has nothing to do with the ladies.” 

But as soon as he finished it was replaced by nervousness again. Sylvain licked his lips and chanced a glance at Glenn who caught his gaze. 

“Glenn,” He almost seemed to force his name out, but the rest came in a rush. “Willyouhavesexwithme.”

Glenn tried to phrase that out. “I beg your pardon?”

Sylvain was looking everywhere but at his face, and this time the words were understandable, “Will you have sex with me?”

Understandable, but-

Glenn was glad that he had already set his glass aside, he might have dropped it otherwise when the words truly registered with him. He stared at Sylvain, but his gaze wasn’t returned. Instead, Sylvain was watching his hands. Unconsciously, Glenn flexed his fingers.

“Sylvain,” Even to his own ears his voice sounded strange, on his chest the pulsing of the mark was so quick, he could not decide whether it was his heart racing or Sylvain's. “I-” he blinked, swallowed, grappled with the words. He had an answer, but, “I’m glad you trust me.”

Sylvain’s whole frames straightened, the pulsing skipped a beat - Sylvain’s heartbeat then - and he quickly turned around.

“Glenn, look,” his voice sounded strained, “Forget about it, I just- I figured, I would ask.” Fake laughter, “It’s nothing personal, really, don’t-”

Glenn raised from his seat, finally putting together what Sylvain had taken from his words. “I did not say no.” He refuted, and Sylvain froze and slowly turned to face him again, this time he met his gaze.

Glenn licked his lips, it was a heady thing when he noticed how Sylvain’s eyes tracked the movement. He needed to swallow before he spoke. 

“Why me?”

Sylvain shrugged, his gaze skittering to the side again, “I mean, I just thought I should ask.” his words came faster and faster, “I mean, I heard that, its’s- It’s different with another man,” Glenn nodded at that, it was, at least if what Goneril had said was true, “And I wanted- I mean, someone I can trust and- well, since you have experience.”

Had Sylvain been looking at him, he would have seen Glenn’s eyes go wide in surprise. It wasn’t that Glenn had never fooled around - both with guys and with girls, but the experience Sylvain seemed to think he had was- not really present. Or if it was, it was second-hand knowledge or frustrating schoolmates. He had never really felt the need to go all the way, as his priorities had been elsewhere. Sometimes Glenn had wondered if it was a side effect of most of his friends being younger than him. 

Still, when Sylvain looked at him again after trailing off with his rambling explanation, Glenn nodded. It wasn't like he was opposed, and he thought it was better that Sylvain came to him - someone he trusted - then do it with some stranger.

It was a nice feeling, a good feeling and it settled warm and pleasant in his chest. Sylvain trusted him enough to ask. 

“Alright,” Glenn agreed and carded a hand through his hair, “How do you want to do this?”

Sylvain shifted from one foot to another, “I brought oil.” He blurted out, and Glenn felt his lips twitch.

But Sylvain still wasn't looking at him, and that really wasn’t a good thing in a situation like that. Nervous was fine, uncomfortable wasn’t.

Glenn slowly crossed the distance between them, giving Sylvain plenty of time to move away. 

He didn’t, but Glenn’s approach caused Sylvain to finally look him in the eye again. Glenn only stopped when he was very close to him. Not quite close enough for their chests to touch should they both take a deep breath at the same time, but almost.

Sylvain had to tilt his head back slightly to keep their eye contact going. For all that Sylvain had gone through puberty with enviable grace, he was still almost a head shorter than Sylvain. Glenn was sure it wouldn’t last, but right now it was still the case.

Carefully, projecting his movement, Glenn reached for Sylvain’s face and placed one of his hands against his cheek, letting his thumb trace the cheekbone. Sylvain stiffened at the initial contact but quickly relaxed into the caress. 

Glenn hummed thoughtfully and brought his other hand up to Sylvain’s hip. With how close they were standing together, it was an intimate position, and Sylvain recognized it too. It seemed, however, like his bravado had made a reappearance and his lips were quirked in amusement. Glenn smirked as well, and squeezed Sylvain’s hip, letting his nails lightly scarp along the revealed skin. Sylvain let out a breathy sound of surprise, and Glenn used the momentary distraction to tilt Sylvain’s head slightly and cross the rest of the distance between them.

For someone who spent as much time bragging about his conquests Sylvain’s lips were slightly chapped with lack of care, but soft all the same. 

Glenn did not let the kiss stay a chaste meeting of lips for long, instead, he licked along Sylvain’s bottom lip, and when he felt Sylvain's lip quirk against his, bit it slightly in chastisement. Sylvain started, his mouth parting in surprise, and Glenn dived in. 

For a moment, Sylvain did not seem what to do, but then he hummed low in his throat and returned the kiss. One of his hands fisted into the front of Glenn’s sleeping shirt while the other hand reached up further and gripped his shoulder. 

Glenn hummed again, letting his hand wander from Sylvain’s hip to his lower back and pulled him closer. It felt good to have the warm weight against his chest. 

He explored Sylvain’s mouth but found that it was less of a conquest, but more of a battle. Glenn relished in battle. 

Whatever hesitance Sylvain had had only moments prior had disappeared, and he had thrown himself into the kiss with captivating intensity. Sylvain’s warm tongue brushed against Glenn’s own, and as their tongues danced, Glenn felt the heat build inside of him. His mark beat with a quick but steady pulse, echoed by his own heartbeat and the rushing in his ears. 

The mix of sensations- finger gripping his shirt and digging into his skin, his own finger on the soft and warm skin of Sylvain’s back - the tickle of the red hair against his face - Glenn all but drowned in it. Washed away by the intensity that took him by surprise. 

Eventually, they parted, and Glenn was sad to see the distance between them grow as Sylvain let himself fall back to his heels. 

They were both breathing heavily as they stood in the middle of the room, still wrapped up in an almost embrace.

“You’re a good kisser,” Sylvain blurted out after a moment, and Glenn couldn’t help the smug grin.

“Thanks.” he murmured, breath still coming a bit quicker. Kissing at least was something he did have experience with, “You’re pretty good yourself.”

Enthusiastic, but not without technique. It had been a good kiss. It had been a  _ great  _ kiss.

Contrary to Glenn’s expectation, Sylvain did not take the compliment with smoothness, instead be blushed again. It made the heat inside Glenn buzz with pleasure and seemed to settle low into his bones.

The uncertain tension with gone, Glenn took a deep breath. 

“Look,” Glenn mumbled, keeping his voice low to not break the intimacy of the moment. They were still standing chest to chest when Sylvain breathed, Glenn felt his chest expand against his own, “Some ground rules,” he tried to recall what he knew, “Better too much oil than too little, and when somebody wants to stop, you stop,” he settled his hand more firmly at Sylvain’s hip in the right position to have his thumb follow the line of his hip bone. “It’s been a while for me,” since he masturbated that is, “So either you need to open me up, or let me do it.”

If he was honest with himself, Glenn wasn't sure what kind of reaction he had expected, but it certainly wasn’t the one he got. Sylvain’s eyes went wide, and for a moment his nails dug into Glenn’s shoulder.

“I-I thought,” Sylvain blinked, flushed almost red enough to match his hair. “I thought?”

“Mhm?” Glenn asked, rubbing his hip soothingly. 

“I thought you would be fucking me.”

Glenn’s brain stalled, and he blinked down at Sylvain in surprise. “Oh,” was the word that tumbled from his mouth, “That works too? Whichever way you want?”

The situation probably wouldn’t have turned as awkward as it was if Glenn had managed to make the last part a statement rather than a question, but alas. The whole situation made Glenn feel very much like the virgin he was, and it made him wish he had taken Goneril - or Christophe, for that matter - up on one of his propositions.

But he hadn’t, and here he was.

Sylvain, however, did not seem to notice that Glenn was mentally grappling with himself, “Yeah,” he mumbled, still sounding breathless, “I want you.”

The words sent a sudden shock of arousal through him and Glenn’s breath caught. His finger’s trailed along the bare skin at Sylvain’s hip again, and arousal mixed with delight as Sylvain leaned into the caress.

“So,” Sylvain mumbled breathlessly, leaning forward and up and pressing his lips against Glenn’s jaw. “Do we strip?” His warm breath fanned across his throat, and Glenn shivered.

Did they? They should, probably, eventually.

Glenn leaned down and was pleased when Sylvain kissed him again. This kiss was quicker, and not half as consuming, but it was sweet and comfortable. 

“Do we?” Glenn returned the question, letting his hand wander from Sylvain’s hip to his ass and pulling him closer. Feeling the stirring of Sylvain’s arousal against his leg was a heady feeling, “If that’s what you want?”

He squeezed the ass again, Sylvain pressed closer, “Or,” Glenn continued, ghosting his lips of Sylvain’s own, and relishing in the shudder that he caused, “I could kiss you again, slow and sweet… or maybe...” he rocked forward against Sylvain, “in another way…”

The mark on his chest pulsed and Sylvain’s dick twitched against his hip. Glenn relished in the way Sylvain almost seemed to lean into him and waited with bated breath for him to cross the rest of the distance between them. 

It didn’t happen. Instead, Sylvain pulled away slightly, fixing his eyes on Glenn's nose rather than his eyes. He laughed then, and Glenn did not like the strange edge to it. Desperate, unsure, everything he did not want Sylvain to be. Involuntarily, Glenn’s hands squeezed Sylvain’s ass, causing him to rock forward into Glenn and bite back a gasp.

The hand in his hair clenched, and Sylvain swallowed several times, his adam's apple bobbing. Glenn wanted to lick his throat and mark that slim neck with his teeth. He resisted, biting his own lip instead. 

Another gasp from Sylvain and Glenn forced his attention back to Sylvain’s face. Sylvain shuddered when their eyes met.

“Stripping it is.” Sylvain said sounding a bit squeaky, his eyes slightly wide and staring back into Glenn’s, he swallowed several times before he continued speaking, tearing his gaze away again, “I- I didn’t ask to be romanced after all,” he laughed awkwardly, but his hands involuntarily pulled on Glenn’s shirt. “There is no need for that.”

The way Sylvain had reacted made Glenn wonder if Sylvain had ever been romanced at all. Not Glenn would have called his previous actions romancing exactly. What had he been doing with those girls that he seemed to have missed out on all the run things?

“Mhm,” Glenn hummed, letting the hand not gripping Sylvain’s ass, rest on his hip, and pushing his fingers below the fabric. His thumbnail scratch slightly along the warm skin and Sylvain shivered at the touch, involuntarily leaning closer and closer, his hands gripping the fabric tighter. 

No need, Sylvain has said, but he looked like he wanted to, and Glenn was anything but opposed. Even if Sylvain’s words had made it seem like he expected some kind of business-like exchange, Glenn knew he couldn’t do it.

“How about,” Glenn eventually murmured, “We do both?”

And then he leaned down for another kiss. Despite his words, Sylvain met him halfway, both of his arms wrapping around Glenn’s neck and pulling them flush together. 

Glenn hiked Sylvain up into his arms, glad when the legs wrapped around his waist to keep him in place. It allowed him to bury one hand in Sylvain’s soft red hair, and so he did. 

To Glenn, it felt like touching a flame. He was suddenly hot all over, burning inside his own skin, but it was a good burn. Warm and heady and ready to swallow him whole in the best of ways. 

With Sylvain in his arms, Glenn made his way over to the bed, intending on laying Sylvain down on it, without ever letting him go. But instead, Sylvain pulled back slightly, breaking the kiss and gasping for air. 

Their eyes met, and Glenn smirked, tilting his head as in challenge. Sylvain’s eyes roved over his face, lingering on his lips, and Glenn could not help but lick them teasingly, “Well-” he began, almost casually, “How-”

But he didn’t finish, Sylvain dove for another kiss, the force of it, the insistence behind it took Glenn by surprise. He stumbled and then they were falling, thankfully towards the bed.

Glenn turned them while they fell, making them roll once so that he was the one lying on his back, hair spilling across the bedsheet, and Sylvain straddling his legs, with both of his hands on Glenn’s stomach.

The huffing breath of laughter Glenn let out was involuntary, but there was no denying that that had been a rather inelegant fall. He looked up to meet Sylvain’s eyes and found them glinting with humor as well. 

Glenn could feel Sylvain’s thumb trace the outline of his abs, but after their initial landing, there was no weight behind the pressure of his hands. 

Taking advantage of the momentary distance between them, Glenn wrenched his long sleepshirt over his head, leaving him in nothing but his underwear. His underwear that did very little to hide his growing arousal.

Glenn leaned back onto his elbows and turned his gaze onto Sylvain who was still sitting perched on his lap. Sylvain wasn’t watching him, or rather, Sylvain wasn’t watching his face. Instead, his gaze lingered considerably lower, and there was a hunger in his eyes that echoed Glenn’s own.

The smirk that found its way onto Glenn’s lips probably dripped with smugness, but Glenn could not have hidden the way he appreciated Sylvain’s interest if he had wanted to. Not that Glenn saw any need for that. 

“Why don’t you come back here?” he asked, his voice coming out throaty and rough, raising one hand in a beckoning gesture. Sylvain’s eyes flowed up his body, and Glenn could not help but flex his stomach muscles, intending to show off.

And it was appreciated. One of Sylvain’s hands rose from where it had been resting on the bed next to Glenn, to stroke along his stomach, up to his chest. 

It should have simply been the feeling of skin on skin, but somehow it was so much more. It was as if the same fire Glenn had felt when he had kissed Sylvain now followed the exploring touch of Sylvain’s fingers over his body, leaving burning trails in their wake, as if the memory of this encounter was to be burned into his very being. 

Glenn shuddered under the touch, but he made no move to escape the intensity of it. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, his cock all but throbbed in his pants, and his soulmate mark thrummed on his chest.

If the room had been darker, there would have been no way the glow of his soulmate mark could have been overlooked, not with Sylvain this close. 

Sylvain’s questing touch continued, his fingers trailing over his skin as if Glenn was a treasure that could only be explored with the greatest of care.

The fingers continued their journey, up and up, until they came to rest on Glenn’s chest, almost touching his soulmate mark.

The mark pulsed as if in anticipation, and Sylvain seemed fascinated by it. Glenn could feel his fingers twitch on his chest, almost as if reaching out for the mark- (he wanted him to)

But he didn’t. Instead, the fingers stilled but a hair's breadth away, and Sylvain’s eyes found his own.

“What is this?” he gestured, but did not touch, and his voice sounded as out of breath as Glenn felt.

Glenn breathed out, and he trembled with the force of it, sending Sylvain’s fingers almost - almost - on top of the mark.

“My soulmate mark,” he answered, and Sylvain stilled above him, and not in a good way. Glenn knew what he would do before the movement even started, and as such, he managed to snatch Sylvain’s hand before he could rip it away as if burned.

“I’m sorry,“ Sylvain gasped out, sounding and looking at Glenn with horror, “I almost touched it. I- this- this is-”

“Fine.” Glenn cut him off, as gently as he could, and pressed the hand flat on his chest again, not onto the mark. That wasn’t something he would force even if every fiber of his being was urging him to do so. 

“Fine?” Sylvain echoed incredulously, clearly not understanding. It was generally considered taboo to touch another’s mark without permission, even with marks that were just marks and did not have a more tangible connection like Glenn’s had. 

But Sylvain wasn’t just anyone, and Glenn would have-

“Yes,” Glenn insisted, “It’s fine. If it bothered me, I would have stopped you.”

The incredulity still had not faded, but Sylvain looked curious again. Glenn removed his hand, letting Sylvain come to his own decision. To Glenn’s joy - relief - delight- He did not pull away.

Instead, his fingers hesitantly, and oh so slowly, traced the outline of the mark. Glenn held very still, and when Sylvain’s eyes flickered up to meet his own searchingly, Glenn gave him his most careless smile. 

It made Sylvain’s lip curl, and the movement of his fingers gained confidence. 

“A sun,” Sylvain breathed fingers wandering over the mark itself, it took everything in Glenn not to shudder violently - the simple caress set all his nerves alight. If Glenn had thought that the touch earlier had been intense, it had nothing on this. 

“Is that why you always give me nicknames like that?” Sylvain’s voice was teasing and confident. Glenn huffed a laugh, but did not answer verbally, he wasn’t sure if he could, it was as if Sylvain was touching his very soul. “The light is pretty…” Sylvain added, and then-

Then he pressed his hand flat onto Glenn’s skin. Spreading his fingers and covering the mark with his hand, Glenn gasped and suddenly could not help himself anymore, lest he come apart. Hiking up one of his legs he sent Sylvain tumbling forward onto his chest, pushing them skin to skin again, with Sylvain’s hand trapped between them. 

He all but smashed their lips together, devouring Sylvain’s lips and his mouth, conquered him, dominated him and made Sylvain shudder and tremble above him. Glenn could feel him harden against his tight, and rocked his leg against him.

Sylvain moaned loudly, breaking the kiss and clinging to him with shaking hands, letting his forehead fall against Glenn’s collarbone and rocking against Glenn’s leg. 

“So,” Glenn rasped after they part to breathe, “This is probably a bit late at this point,” but that did not stop his hands from pressing Sylvain closer to him and relishing in the way he groaned his name when their cocks pressed together through their pants. “But,” and the choked moan Sylvain let out when he squeezed his ass again, almost made Glenn lose his trail of thoughts, “How much have you actually done before?”

It took Sylvain a moment to answer him, and Glenn would readily accept that his own actions - namely the continued rocking of his leg against Sylvain’s groin - were probably not helping. But the way Sylvain’s hot and stuttering breath fanned across Glenn’s throat was too good to make him stop.

“I,” Sylvain eventually gasped out, and Glenn took some pity on him, “I have kissed a guy and made out with him.”

Glenn hummed, and ignored the spike of jealousy, he had no right to that, instead, he stilled his movement completely, hoping for Sylvain to give him a more definite answer. “How far did you go?” 

“I,” Sylvain answered almost waspishly, “Have made out, ended up in his lap, rutting against him like a beast, while he was half-naked, and I really wanted to get rid of all pants involved.”

Blinking at him, Glenn squeezed his ass (it was such a nice one), making him gasp, and tried to sort out the information he had been given. 

“So,” he muttered after a moment, half to Sylvain, half to himself, “Just me.” 

That was-

Sylvain only grunted his assent and leaned into him. This time Sylvain was the one who buried his hand into Glenn’s hair and tilted his head. He probably had no clue that his admission - and the treatment - sent a spike of arousal straight to Glenn’s cock - or maybe he did, at least if the way he rocked down on him as if in response was any indication. 

“Come on, Glenn.” and the fingers which had been buried in his hair tugged lightly. 

Glenn swallowed, “Alright, your pace,” Glenn murmured against Sylvain’s lips, and eased up his grip on Sylvain’s ass, leaving him more freedom to move his hips, trying to show him that he would go not one step further than Sylvain wanted him too at his own speed. 

However, it wasn’t the message Sylvain took from the gesture. Instead, he stiffened on Glenn’s lap, knees tightening around the sides of Glenn’s hip. The hand still tangled in his hair yanked again, harder this time, as he straightened, sending pinpricks of pain through him. But it wasn’t the only feeling it caused: the sudden shock of pleasure that accompanied it, made Glenn catch his breath. 

“I’m not some maiden who needs extra care,” Sylvain snapped defensively, staring down at Glenn with angry eyes. 

Glenn studied him, took in the bristling stance, the fixed smile, the tightness around his eyes - and the tremor of nerves that Sylvain could not quite hide.

“Ah,” Glenn breathed, leaning up so that their lips brushed against each other as he spoke. Then he smiled slowly, letting his lips curl into a wicked smirk, “But I do so enjoy it when someone else takes charge.”

There was something utterly fascinating about seeing the way Sylvain’s pupils dilated. Glenn smiled and joined their lips together in a filthy kiss. 

Just like Sylvain had wanted they got rid of the pants - and Sylvain’s shirt - soon after.

\--

Afterward, when they are lying next to each other on Glenn’s too small bed, Glenn watched Sylvain from the corner of his eye, lit only by the glow of Glenn’s own soulmark that was still pulsing in tune with Sylvain's slowing heartbeat.

The light was usually quite faint - it never shone through Glenn’s clothes after all - but in the half-dark room, and especially pulsing as it was now due to the proximity of his soulmate, it was impossible to disregard.

Glenn had noticed Sylvain’s fascination with it earlier, but after the first instance of touching- and Glenn's explanation for what it was - Sylvain had tried not to touch it directly, though he had not quite managed.

“Well,” Sylvain mumbled after a moment, his gaze fixed on Glenn’s chest, the pulsing picked up a little, “That.. was… uh...very nice.” His cheeks were flushed red enough to match his hair.

Glenn snorted. The bed shook with his laughter. “Very nice, I see. What high praise.”

Sylvain turned to his side quickly, it put the side of his throat on display, a faint outline of Glenn’s teeth was still visible.

“I mean it, Glenn,” Sylvain insisted, eyes wide.

Glenn waved his hand. He knew Sylvain wasn’t lying, his amusement had more to do with the fact that Sylvain was getting flustered now.

“Alright, alright,” he eventually said, when it became obvious that Sylvain couldn’t identify the cause for his amusement. “I believe you,” Glenn told him.

Sylvain’s eyes wandered over his face, and, eventually, he nodded. “Good.”

Glenn hummed, “Yeah, I’m glad.” he stretched his arms towards the ceiling, in the light of his soulmark, they threw faint shadows on the wall. His next words weren’t carefully considered, but somehow, he needed to say them. “Since I hadn’t done this before either.”

At least not all the way.

Next to him, Sylvain turned stiff and still. A quiet “Oh.” was the only sound Sylvain let out, Glenn hummed again, but could not quite bring himself to turn to face him. With each moment that past his cheeks heated a bit, but after a deep breath Glenn shook off the embarrassment. There was nothing to be embarrassed about after all.

But with the calm returning to him, and the way Sylvain was slowly relaxing again when Glenn made no further move or said nothing, tiredness was beginning to set in. Coupled with the loose contentment still flowing through him, Glenn was having more and more trouble keeping his eyes open.

He was almost asleep when Sylvain took a deep breath and spoke again. “And you would have let me fuck you?”

The sudden question startled him awake, and the content of it even more so. Glenn pushed himself up on his elbows to properly look Sylvain in the eye, before he nodded, “Sylvain,” he drawled slowly, “has it occurred to you, that I trust you as well?”

He had the pleasure of seeing Sylvain’s eyes go wide with surprise. Huffing a laugh, Glenn flopped down into the bed again. As he made himself comfortable, another thought occurred to him, and he turned onto his side to look at Sylvain again. His current bed partner was still watching him with slightly wide eyes and clutching the blanket to him like a startled maid.

Glenn’s lips twitched, “You still can, you know?”

“W-What?” Sylvain blinked multiple times, before gathering his thoughts.

“Fuck me,” Glenn informed him blandly, before he had to yawn, “Just, not now…” he waved his hand, “Later.”

Sylvain was once again silent, but when he spoke again, there was hesitant humor in his voice, “Later.” a pause, “Old man.”

“Old man?” Glenn questioned, “Well, this old man has skills.”

There was no hesitance in Sylvain’s reply this time, “If it’s not practiced can it really be considered a skill?”

Glenn huffed, and he felt the bed moved as Sylvain laid down properly again, a line of warmth against Glenn’s side, “Natural talent then.”

Sylvain hummed seemingly thoughtful.

\--

Later, after some more banter, and after Sylvain had actually fallen asleep, Glenn turned to his side to look at him properly in the faint light of his soulmark.

Sylvain’s face was slack with sleep, his hair mussed, a faint line of lovebites on his neck. They would fade soon, unlike the ones that Glenn had left on his tight, now hidden under the blanket. He looked exhausted, but content. Trusting.

It was a good look on him, and Glenn hoped to never lose that trust.

“Goodnight, sunshine.”

\--

Glenn was the one to wake up first. Usually, he would get up as soon as he was awake, but that day the situation was different of course. Getting up would mean waking Sylvain.

Sometimes during the night, Sylvain had rolled himself closer to Glenn, tugged himself against his side, and had thrown his arm over Glenn’s chest. Their legs were tangled together, and despite the stickiness of their naked skin, it was a surprisingly comfortable position. Glenn had never slept in the same bed as anyone but his brother and the prince, but this was different, but not in a bad way.

It took a while for Sylvain to wake up, but when he did, he did so slowly. There was a change in his breathing, and some lazy movement - more specifically Sylvain burying his face against Glenn’s neck - before he actually seemed to reach consciousness and realized that he wasn’t alone in bed. Sylvain’s finger trailed lazily over his chest, drifting over the soulmark and causing his skin to tingle.

For a moment Glenn considered whether Sylvain was going to take him up on the offer of fucking him now, but he had a vague feeling that it wasn’t that. So, not without regret, he reached up and grasped the fingers gently.

“Good morning, Sylvain.” Glenn greeted him calmly. It was his day off, so he had a perfectly good explanation for why he was still lying in bed next to Sylvain, and it was only partly because it was comfortable and it was nice to have him so close.

Sylvain stiffened and looked at him with weary eyes the next morning, despite their talk the day before. Luckily, Glenn had prepared himself for that eventuality. It hurt just a bit, but given that it was Sylvain, it was not unexpected.

“Morning,” Sylvain eventually returned hesitantly. Glenn watched as he licked his lips, seemingly looking for the right words.

“Look, this wasn’t-” Sylvain seemed to struggle. “This isn’t… isn’t a relationship thing.”

Glenn nodded. “So you said,” he agreed, and threw a look at Sylvain. “In fact, I believe you asked me for a favor, which I granted.”

Sylvain watched him carefully, but Glenn simply carded a hand through his hair - terribly messy now - and raised an eyebrow. And then, heartbeat after heartbeat pulsing through his soulmark, Sylvain relaxed slowly.

“So... you did.”

“Sylvain,” Glenn stated, “I meant what I said, I trust you, I care for you and you are important to me. Whatever else you are; you are my friend.”

He was more than that of course, but it was not a lie. Sylvain was his friend, and Glenn would have it no other way.

Instead of believing him immediately - which Glenn honestly had not expected - Sylvain studied him for a long moment. His gaze flickered over his form - lingered on the bite marks on his neck and collarbone - and studied his face for a long moment.

If he was looking for signs of a lie, he would find none. After a long moment, Sylvain nodded.

“Alright,” he mumbled quietly, still looking at Glenn like he could not quite believe him, but finding nothing that made him disbelieve either. “If you say so.”

Glenn nodded. “I do. Now,” and he sat up properly and threw back the blanket, making Sylvain squawk in surprise when the cold air hit him, “We should get up. I am fairly certain that his highness and Fe expect us for training.”

Another long look, and eventually Sylvain nodded slowly, something like wonder in his eyes. “Yeah, don’t want to ask questions…”

Glenn snorted, “If they do at least their reactions to the answer will be fun.”

Sylvain looked at him in surprise, but Glenn had no interest in hiding this away like a dark dirty secret unless Sylvain asked it of him. Glenn never planned to be anyone but himself after all, and if someone could not deal with that, it was not his problem.

Sylvain did not ask for silence, instead, he laughed.

(Unfortunately, they never asked, if nothing else it would have been quite a laugh.)

\--

For a while after that, things remained slightly awkward all the same. It became blindingly clear to Glenn that the rumors about Sylvain’s exploits and missteps were in no way exaggerated. The other had no idea how to treat someone whom he had sex with other than avoiding them and acting like he did not care for them.

He could not do the same to Glenn, so he tiptoed around strangely. Glenn made very sure to treat him like he always had, it wasn’t a good feeling, but in his heart, he had the surety that whatever else, Sylvain trusted him. He would not have come to him otherwise, and if sufficiently motivated, Glenn could be very, very patient.

It paid off.

Slowly but surely, things returned to normal, sometimes Sylvain even made jokes about it. He went back to telling Glenn about his other exploits and training with him. He laughed and joked and teased his friends, and if he was maybe a bit more touchy, a bit more sure of his welcome around Glenn, a bit more comfortable simply leaning against his side, Glenn was not going to point it out.

Sylvain was his soulmate, and Glenn looked forward to having him as a friend his whole life. Maybe it wasn’t what he wanted, but Glenn knew his duty and the general outline of his future - he would make the best of it.

Looking back and wondering about maybes and what-ifs would gain him nothing.

\--

Glenn was already done with preparing his horse for the journey to Duscur, so he allowed himself another look around the courtyard. It was packed, but that did not stop him from spotting the bright red hair.

Squinting his eyes, Glenn made sure that it was indeed Sylvain before making his way over. He hadn’t been aware that the Gautiers would be coming today, as far as he knew that would not be coming along on the diplomatic trip.

Sylvain looked… distressed, thought that was not quite the right word for it. Glenn looked around again, but Miklan was nowhere in sight, so it probably had a less obvious reason.

“Sylvain,” He called, “What are you doing running around like a headless chicken?”

Sylvain turned at the sound of his voice, startled, but when he recognized him he grinned instead.

“Glenn.” came the greeting and brown eyes flickered over his form, lingering on his uniform for a moment.

Glenn fought back the urge to tease, but he was very aware that he looked great in the uniform of the royal guards.

“Are you looking for the ducklings?” Sylvain laughed at the nickname, which naturally was what Glenn had intended. Back when the nickname had started, the kids hadn’t minded, but these days it mostly earned him dirty looks.

“Yeah, we promised to meet up before you guys leave,” Sylvain explained, though he sounded frustrated. “I didn’t think the meeting place through.”

Glenn chuckled, “Yeah, you could have picked a better one.” Then he shook his head. “They are over there.” Glenn pointed towards the right, where one of the wheelhouses was ready to go. “With Lady Patricia’s wheelhouse.”

Sylvain flashed him a grin. “Thanks, Glenn.”

Glenn rolled his eyes, and shrugged, making some of his hair fall into his face. It reminded him that he would have to put it into a proper braid so it did not get in the way. “Think nothing of it. Really. You know how Felix gets, nevermind that his highness can pout like a champion.”

Sylvain laughed, and Glenn grinned as well, pleased that he had chased away whatever dark thought Sylvain had had, if only for the moment. Sylvain had a great smile, and it was at his best when it was genuine.

“That’s much better. Keep the smile, sunshine.”

Then he heard the voice of his captain calling for him from behind and he turned around.

Glenn was already some steps away from Sylvain, back on the way to his horse, when the mark on his chest started pulsing rapidly, almost violently. He made to turn around, but an impatient call of his name drew his attention away again.

The knight captain was making his way towards him.

Instead of bidding a proper goodbye as he had originally planned - with a lot more teasing - Glenn instead threw back a quick farewell wave over his shoulder, before rushing to meet the captain halfway.

“Come now, little Fraldarius, get ready, we will move out any moment.”

Glenn nodded, and the captain laughed clapping him on his shoulder and using that grip to lead him back to his company. The mark was still pulsing, so Glenn threw another look back over his shoulder.

He could no longer spot Sylvain. The pulsing was already slowing down again. Had Sylvain simply been startled by something?

It sounded logical, but it didn’t sound right.

“Well, Fraldarius, how do you feel about your first big assignment?”

Glenn looked back to the captain.

There was no time for his thoughts and musings right now. No matter what he thought, for now, he had a duty. Nevertheless, Glenn resolved to have a long talk with Sylvain once he returned from Duscur if only to get to the bottom of his disquiet.

As if in agreement the mark on his chest pulsed harder.

\--

Duscur was the end. The sun set over the burning camp. It would rise again, but Glenn would never see it again.

**Author's Note:**

> If you think the rating is inappropriate please tell me! I wasn't sure, and I wouldn't quite call it E.


End file.
